Intuition Games
by KeepCalmFanFicExists
Summary: The Wizarding War is over and Harry is ready to enjoy a well-earned break. A road trip though sends him in the Hunger Games Arena accompanied by a mysterious girl with terrible heritage. It's all about survival now and she's offering exactly that. Or maybe not... AU after the books,no HG characters or universe, rated T because it's the Hunger Games.
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: Hello and thank you for taking time to read this. It's sort of AU but don't worry I'll explain everything soon. Please let me know what you think._

_Disclaimer: Obviously I don't own Harry Potter, that belongs to the genius JK Rowling. Also I don't own The Hunger Games, that's Suzanne Collins' idea. Hmm and I'm not Strauss or Beethoven advertising my work here..._

_This first ever chapter is dedicated to the three people who persuaded me, each in their own way, to publish this fiction. So, Tarry, Solar Kitty (FanFicNet name) and my tea-loving friend Aura thank you so much! That's for you :) Tarry, a second thank you because you corrected my grammar ;)_

**C****hapter 1**

It was a sunny Saturday evening when Harry, Ron and Hermione were having a road trip near the Riddle House. Hermione had insisted that such a visit would help them-especially Harry -coping with the recent events of Voldemort's downfall and also with his previous traumatizing experience at that particular place.

They had apparated in Great Hangleton and then rented a car to travel to the village nearby. Everyone agreed that the stunning view of the valley would help take the edge off.

It hadn't really... Their short stop at the graveyard had caused Harry to hyperventilate, so now that Ron was at the wheel and Hermione was making Harry take small sips of water, they all seemed to be waiting for something to distract them.

Harry, terribly embarrassed, was gazing at the once beautiful manor, when something caught his attention. Although the windows were sealed, two at the second floor were open and light was coming from inside. Without saying a word to prevent himself from vomiting, he pointed at the guilty windows. Hermione worried, turned to look. She seemed surprised too, she had stopped muttering under her breath for one. Ron at the silence asked:

-Hermione, what's wrong? Is Harry ok?

-Oh, yeah, I'm fine but look at the house. These windows are open. Someone lives there.

-No one lives there, harry, the wood just broke. Some children from the village probably...

After some bickering Hermione agreed to a trip to the Riddle House under the condition to make it quick and be extra careful. Sooner than she wanted, they had climbed the hill on which the huge manor stood and Ron pulled over in front of the entrance. It was truly a wonderful place, even with the ivy all over it, it still had an aura of grandeur. But there was something else in the air too, something more sinister.

With their wands out, they reached the old door and Harry pushed it open. He didn't find any resistance. They exchanged looks and took the first step inside. The ground and first floor were deserted, with thick layers of dust on the furniture and small mice running around. At the stair's landing they stopped. Classical music was coming from the rooms upstairs. Criminals with elaborate musical taste?

-So, you do not like Strauss? Would you prefer something more epic? Beethoven perhaps?

A gorgeous young girl was staring at them from the end of the landing's hall. She was tall and slender, with waist length shining raven hair. Her eyes had a peculiar dark green colour with slivers of grey. She was wearing a set of amethyst robes that were too big for her. Actually her clothes were little more presentable than rags but suggested she was magical.

So did the vaguely dangerous aura that surrounded her. She wasn't more than 15 but that gleam in her eyes, the intensity of her gaze, made her almost frightening. And then she smiled dazzlingly at them and approached laughing softly.

The three friends opened their mouths to say... something but she interrupted them and said:

-Of course I know who you are . I have heard so much about all of you. You are Hermione Granger, you Ronald Weasly and you -she made a dramatic pause and her gaze fell on Harry- are Harry Potter.

Now that she was closer, it was obvious that she was studying them feverishly, her eyes scanning every inch of their bodies, jutting every reaction. Under her scrutiny they had paralyzed. Only Harry managed, when the silence and the girl's stare became unbearable, a:

-Who are you? What are you doing in this house?

-I live here, she answered proudly, the smile gone, replaced by a glare. It was obvious she would not accept any mockery. As for who I am, well let's just say that I am the true owner of this house. Now please come in. I would be quite a rude hostess letting you all stand there.

She made an elegant gesture and led the way to a big room much cleaner than the rest of the house. On a fragile table a cup of tea, a teapot and a milk jar were sitting. It seemed that in spite of her obvious poverty she was well trained in manners. She weaved her wand, which was long and made from a rather dark wood, and three more teacups appeared. She sat on a dilapidated chair and tilted her head on one side smiling, expecting them to join her.

But this simple move made Harry unexpectedly snap.

-True owner? What does that mean? he demanded aggressively, not himself sure why suddenly he felt anger and fear(?) flooding him.

The others stared at this change of posture. On the contrary the girl didn't stop smiling.

-It means that in spite of some legal... issues, this house is mine. Or should be anyway. Through heritage.

Harry stared, feeling panic grow in his chest though he couldn't explain it at first. But then...

-Heritage, he repeated. This is the Riddle House. That'd suggest that you're a Riddle. But you're magical too.

Harry felt his voice die in his throat. That combination could mean only one thing, one terrible, wrong, completely absurd thing. You are related to Voldemort, he accused quietly.

The girl's smile broadened, her eyes shot lightnings.

-Oh. Oh yes. I am his daughter.


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N: Hello again and thank you for choosing to continue reading this story! _

_As promised, some things will be clarified here and also we get a first glimse on the other main character. Hope you enjoy it as much as I did writng it! :)_

__Disclaimer: Obviously I don't own Harry Potter, that belongs to the genius JK Rowling. Also I don't own The Hunger Games, that's Suzanne Collins' idea. And no, I'm not Louis Armstrong or his ghost.__

__The dedication of the second chapter goes to a couple of people who, too, had their important role in the publication of this: Melody and Paul thank you :)__

__And thank you Tarry for correcting my mistakes :)__

**Chapter 2**

Silence. And then Harry raised his wand ready to attack pointing at the beaming face. She didn't reach for her wand that was resting on the coffee table, but her expression became colder.

-You are being ridiculous Harry. You cannot win against me and I have no interest in harming you. On the contrary I want to know you and your friends. Please sit down, have a cup of tea.

But when nobody moved, she threw her wand at the opposite side of the room.

-Please, she repeated. I have been very lonely lately.

And her face was crossed by ... sorrow? She gave another encouraging nod at the cups of tea.

Curiosity for this creature in front of them won against fear and with small steps they approached and sat down, though away from the girl.

-What's your name? Harry asked slowly ignoring the sinister sound the chair was making under his weight.

-Ioli, but people call me Salzara too. You can use whichever you want.

-Ioli...repeated Hermione, how come we've never heard of you?

She made a gesture that meant stupid question and then she said:

\- Security reasons basically . Eliminating the possibility of blackmail, you understand. And secondly, since I am not...legitimate, it could be awkward if I was walking around in public.

She poured hot water in the cups and gave them the teabags.

-What do you mean legitimate? spoke Ron for the first time. Who..eh..who is your mother exactly?

-Bellatrix of course, Bellatrix Lestrange.

Now Ioli looked disappointed even.

-I thought you were smart, she added sulkily. My father always said that you were not entirely stupid and that usually meant a lot from him...

-You are very straight forward, muttered Ron angrily. We're not stupid, it's just funny imagining You-Now-Who with a woman, he added in a smaller voice.

But Ioli didn't miss a beat.

-Then your imagination is rather limited, which proves my point since I am here, she said smiling coldly, triumphantly.

Harry and Hermione were still appraising her and had not moved to take their tea. Ioli chuckled when they gave their drinks suspicious looks.

-I have not put any kind of potion or curse in the water, you know. If I wanted you dead, you would be long gone by now. So enjoy your drink, it is a pity there are no biscuits , but I run out of them a week ago, she said, her voice a bit annoyed at the thought of her favourite biscuits.

-So you really are Voldemort's daughter then? It's not some sort of sick joke? Hermione tried, a hint of desperation in her voice.

-Yes, I am afraid I am. See? Her lips parted a little and she let out a low hiss.

The three friends let a shudder run through them at the use of Parseltongue which turned into a gasp when a small greyish snake appeared from the shadows and in the end curled itself around her left arm. She stroked its head and smiled a little friendlier.

-That is Glaucus, he is keeping me company. If he is not enough proof, I do not know what is.

-So... so what have been doing all these years? We haven't seen you at Hogwarts and Draco Malfoy never.. ehm... mentioned you, said Hermione.

-Oh, of course he never mentioned me, said Ioli waving an airy hand, I doubt he knew I existed a few months ago. All these years I lived with my mother and uncle at the Lestrange Manor in France. Basically I was home-schooled and I also attended the Academy during the school holidays where we have more lessons, but I always wanted to see Hogwarts. Everyone talks about it and its magical history is exciting. It would be amazing to see everything at first hand, to experiment. You are lucky you have lived there for six years, she nodded her head as if in agreement to her own words.

-Oh...oh yes its very nice I guess- started Hermione but Harry cut her short.

-You're lying! Your mother was in Azkaban for eleven years. And so was- he snorted and laughed at the same time - Uncle Dolph.

-Actually, no the truth is that my mother and uncle remained free after their arrest. I think Uncle Dolph just agreed to pay a certain amount of gold every year. You see politicians are so interested in the well-being of the citizens of this country that they chose money over... justice. You should be proud. The gold went to St. Mango's and Hogwarts and I got to have "normal" parenting. So everyone is happy, no? Ioli smiled sweetly.

-Yeah, I'm sure Bellatrix was an amazing mother figure, muttered Harry.

-Please, Harry there is no reason to be rude, I just lost my parents. I hoped you of all people would understand... But for your information my mother could be very caring. Plus she was a very good teacher. We studied together often and she even let me assist her with her experiments at work. And no, before you ask, she never hurt me in any way. I cannot recall her raising her voice, really. And so did Uncle Dolph.

-And Voldemort? asked Harry before he could stop himself.

-Well, continued Ioli who didn't seem irritated at all despite the interrogation, I knew him only for three years, since I was eleven. To me he was very nice. We talked a lot about magic and the conversation was always very interesting. And he could be very sweet, too... I know what you think, that I delude myself or that i am simply stupid. The latter is definitely not correct. As for the first one I do hope you are wrong , though we cannot know for sure. But I have to cling on to something, right? she asked softly and raised her cup as if she were drinking to their good health.

-I suppose..., answered Harry. But why are you here, now? This house looks a bit ...-

-Sad, Hermione cut him off.

-Or abandoned , filthy and pathetic. A wreck, she said, a tone of mockery in her voice. Do not try to embellish things, I know each and every way to do that, I assure you. We should always give everyone their appropriate names, that is what my mother always said. Especially between us there is no reason to hide, is there? You know about me and my heritage. It would only be foolish to try and pretend to be someone I am not , only to avoid scaring you as it often happens. I suggest you do the same. No masks.

Now she looked serious, as if she wanted to speak those words for a long time.

The three friends had become bright red in the face.

-As for your question Harry, she said content, it is complicated. A rather long story I might add. If you have time I could tell you. And since all three nodded, she went on. Well according to wizarding law a child who has been orphaned is given to the custody of the closest relative, hopefully a parent themselves. Since my father has no living relatives, the only candidates are my Grandmother and my aunt Narcissa. But the Malfoys have a lot in their plates at the moment without me in the equation and if they are eventually sent to Azkaban I will be in the same state as I am right now. That left my mother's mother, Druella.

-Then why aren't you at her house?

-Well imagine yourself being 70 years old and trying to convince your eldest daughter to conceive for 20 years. She gives you a lot of excuses and then after she has died it turns out she actually has a child but not from her rightful husband. A half-blood, no matter how powerful or handsome he was. And that now this teenager is your responsibility. I am not sure if anyone would be pleased by that turn of events and if so, whether they would be considered mentally fit people. Anyway,one and a half months ago I packed my few possessions and left. She does not inform the ministry because she knows she would be accused of child abuse. And I live here. I prefer being alone, so we are both happy. She smiled again, as if the whole thing was a game.

-But-but why do you live like this? asked Harry puzzled. Wouldn't you prefer a real home with warm food on the table?

-My real home Harry is currently locked with a huge lock and a court order and it will remain like this until these geniuses at the Ministry figure out to whom it legally belongs. Because although my Uncle's will states clearly that the Lestrange's and Black's fortunes go to me, I am not a pureblood. Which complicates things since there are not enough laws regarding these issues. So now I am knutless and this is the only place I can stay in. The house belongs to a Muggle but who cares, he lives in the States. For all I know he never even comes here- which is pretty obvious she added bitterly. Happy days, right? If my mother knew about this, she would have been furious.

She let out something that sounded like a choked laugh -as if this thought amused her and then abruptly she asked:

-Do you like Louis Armstrong?

The record that had been playing all this time had come to an end. Without waiting for an answer she rose to her feet gracefully and changed the record at the old pick-up. A beautiful. hoarse voice filled the room. Ioli smiled satisfied. Then she turned back at them.

-Now I would like you to stay for dinner, it is about time, but I am afraid we have business to attend to.

Instantly the three friends whitened. Did she mean that after she had told them her life story and her current problems she was going to kill them to avenge her parents' deaths and take over the world?

True to that assumption, Ioli reached the corner at which she had thrown her wand and seized it. When she turned to face them, all three had their own wands in hand and had taken dueling positions. Ioli smiled coldly, letting out a noise of impatience.

-You really are three little heroes, are you not? I am sorry to tell you that today you will not have the opportunity to...ehm...show off, because we are on a bit of a tight schedule.

And with those words she slashed her wand in a swift, fluid manner and they were sucked into nothingness.

_A/N: __About the names: Glaucus is an Ancient Greek name often found in mythology and means pale blue- grey. One of the mythological Glaucus' was a Lycian captain in the Trojan War and Homer has given him a very beautiful piece (Z 2.876; 6.199) in his breath-taking epic poem. I suggest you check it out cause it's really amazing (and yeah i have a thing for the Iliad)_

_Ioli: In English you'll find her as Jole, but I prefer the original. In greek it's pronounced Ee-OH-lee and her myth is one of the most peculiar in the entire Greek mythology. I have my reasons of picking it, I'd be glad to PM them to you if you're curious and want to know more about her._

_Salzara obviously comes from Salazar Slytherin ias the female version... You'll find more about that in chapter nine, if you are still reading my story ;)_

_Please let me know what you think, it will only take a minute._

_Bye for now :) _


	3. Chapter 3

_A/N: Hi there. First of all a big thank you to all those who reviewed the previous chapters, you are very kind and I have already corrected the mistakes you pointed out!_

_Also, thank you, for continuing with the story. Please let me know wat you think._

___Disclaimer: Obviously I don't own Harry Potter, that belongs to the genius JK Rowling. Also I don't own The Hunger Games, that's Suzanne Collins' idea.___

___As always, a big thank you to Tarry for correcting my grammar/ spelling mistakes :)___

**Chapter** **3**

Harry was falling in an endless vertigo of colours,shapes and sounds, every part of his body feeling the extreme pressure of Apparition. Vaguely he could sense Hermione and Ron near him. He thought his lungs were crushed, he was starting to see black dots in front of him when the sensation abruptly ended. They landed on a hard surface. They were still trying to keep their balance when a soft pop was heard and Ioli Apparated near them. She shot them a sarcastic look.

-Welcome to Spiritus Academy, home of all those who love knowledge! Yes, usually newcomers hit the floor hard when they arrive here, though not as much as you did, she smirked.

Harry raised his wand.

-Why did you bring us here? What are you playing at? he asked aggressively.

-If I were you , I would watch my manners, Savior. That is not a way to talk to a lady. I was merely welcoming you to your current home and you aggravate. Really I am hurt. Now lower your wand before I decide you are annoying, rather than laughable, she said with a dangerous smile on her face. Follow me, she ordered, it is a long way to the Council.

-What council? Why are we here? And how did you bring us here? asked Harry again.

-Harry, Spiritus Academy is a well-known club for gifted individuals, Hermione began in an undertone. People with special abilities are trained here to, well -

-Rule the world? helped Ioli. That is not entirely true. Anyone can be accepted, but only individuals who actually use their brains are able to keep up or even show interest in our work. On the other hand we do have the largest magical research program with over 20 departments, 100 specialties and facilities with equipment we develop ourselves. My mother was head of the Research Program the last 17 years and my father had the general command. That's why it was so easy to infiltrate the British Ministry of Magic without raising any suspicions or complaints from other countries. He was the head of the council as we call the leading group here. Fifteen members plus the Research Supervisor and the Head. As for why you are here... Well, there is a regulation about choosing exceptional members of the community and giving them a little show. You were chosen! And the council thought it would be... interesting if I brought you here. I used an Apparition Charm for that- family invention!

-So, you're saying that you aren't going to kill us? asked Ron.

-Wait, what do you mean show? Does it have to do with the Hunger Games? I read in the Prophet that they are about to begin today.

-My thoughts exactly, agreed Ioli tiredly. I am not sure how you are supposed to be impressed if you see 30 teenagers killing each other, but who am I to judge? she drawled sarcastically, obviously thinking she should have had a role in the whole thing, Godric knows why.

-Excuse me? The what- Games? Harry interrupted.

Ioli opened her mouth to answer, but Hermione was faster of course. However, this time her voice somewhat lacked her usual bossy know-it-all tone she would get when providing information.

-The Hunger Games is an ancient magical institution with common origins with the Triwizard Tournament. Thirty teenagers of all over the world are picked and thrown into an Arena to survive on their own. The last one standing is the victor. They are held whenever there's enough people interested.

-Which is almost every year, Ioli smiled chillingly. But you are not entirely correct, Miss Granger. The Games end when the last person standing reaches the exit of the Arena and the judges. There are not necessarily killings involved. And always more than one survivor, she said in a way normally associated with small-talk over plates of sandwiches.

-Out of thirty teens? exclaimed Harry. That's barbaric! Why on earth would anyone want to take part?

-Because of the prize I s'pose, answered Ron. If you make it, you're like... rich and amazing... like, he struggled to find the appropriate word, God, he concluded in awe.

Ioli shot him a cold, mildly disgusted look.

-That is not the main reason. Basically it is a way of "collecting" Alpha personalities from the world in one place. Really applying Darwin's Laws in modern society. The winners form a sort of club, shall we say. The best with the best, you understand. Since the Academy's purpose is not only hosting a holiday camp, but also providing society with experts in every field -world security included- , it is important to discover in a failsafe way who is actually worth it. The point is not in the killing. If one survives the first day's battle, has every right to leave the Games at any point.

-Yeah, sure, snarled Ron, and miss their chance?

-Indeed, agreed Ioli her lips curling in a dark smile.

They had been walking through corridors, classrooms and gardens for 20' without seeing a single person.

-So, started Harry still not entirely ok after the initial shock learning about the Games and what he was going to witness, everyone is getting ready for the Reaping? That's why we haven't met anyone?

-Yes, the procedure starts in an hour. Everyone is getting ready. Honestly I should be among them.

-You're participating? asked Harry doubtfully.

Ioli shot him an intense look.

-It is compulsory, you know, if one wishes to succeed in here. There, she added. The big grandfather doors. She pointed at a huge door with metal ornaments shaped like Medusa- heads.

-Knock and go inside after you are called. Try to be politer than you were to me and show respect to them. And pocket your wands.

She stood where she was completely motionless, waiting for them to knock. When a man in a black suit opened the door and greeted her politely, she nodded slightly and without another word left to the opposite direction walking quickly and lightly.

The next time the three friends came out of these doors, they were all dizzy, sick in the stomach. It had turned out than Hermione and Ioli had been wrong. No, they were not here to watch the Games. They, given their extraordinary circumstances, were given the "amazing" chance to participate in them. And the Reaping was in less than 20'. In less than 20' perhaps one of them would be chosen to enter an Arena and fight to the death. Their names would be entered along with everybody else's.

Now they had to go to the ceremony. Unable to talk, they followed blindly the instructions they were given in order to find the huge theatre and sat in the first row silently. The first to regain control of themselves was Harry.

-But there are hundreds of names entered, right? We've next to no odds to be chosen.

Hermione nodded in a slightly spastic way. But Ron was not so encouraging.

\- I doubt it. There's been talk about the trancparency of the results. Traitors of the country are part of the pool and they're always picked. Often children of previous victors are chosen. And I'm sure we belong in that category, don't you think? his enthusiasm for the Games was gone now, replaced by a grim mask.

-You heard them ,they were sure we would take part in the games. Even all of us, shrieked Hermione hysterically, but paused abruptly. The first wave of teenagers was coming in.

Soon it became obvious that regardless of their brutal nature, the Hunger Games were more than popular. Thousands of children between the ages of 12-19 and every nationality, took seats in the theatre. All of them dressed in their best, some in traditional costumes, like precious silk kimonos or gold-embroidered saris. Most of them looked solemn, even scared. Their eyes big in their pale faces, hard contrast to the festive, colourful clothing. Near the end of the filling, the three friends spotted Ioli. She came in followed by a group of other teens. She wasn't talking to them and they seemed nervous by the proximity. She ignored them, breath-taking in her short midnight-blue silk dress. She had noticed them too. Her face showed surprise to see them in the Tributes' seats and then almost instantly it hardened, unreadable, just like her father's.

_A/N: Ok, I know i just wrote a lot of weird stuff please take it easy... The Academy has been a fantasy of mine since I went to school and got deeply disappointed by the poor curriculum. Of course I had to turn it much more hard core to make them support things like the Games, but the idea has been in my head for many many years. The name in Latin means spirit, inspiration, because that's exactly what they do, they inspire people to become better._

_Next chapter is the Reaping and then we are in the deep for real. And wi'll know Ioli better too. If you find something confusing please dont hesitate to ask. Bye for now :)_


	4. Chapter 4

_A/N: Hello again, thanks for the reviews they make my day and thank you for continuing the story._

_As always a thank you o Tarry for correcting my spelling/grammar !_

_Disclaimer: Obviously I don't own Harry Potter, that belongs to the genius JK Rowling. Also I don't own The Hunger Games, that's Suzanne Collins' idea._

**Chapter 4**

Just after Ioli had taken her seat, the members of the Council appeared. While the others sat on specially arranged seats, the new Head, a surprisingly young man with a beard and luxurious blood-red robes, got to the large stage, pointed his wand to his throat and started to speak.

-Good evening to everyone, he began in a deep voice, we are gathered here tonight to honor a most ancient institution. The time has come for the 685th time, to choose thirty courageous young people who will give us a bright example of the wit, the resourcefulness and the strength every witch and wizard should struggle everyday to achieve. As modern gladiators they shall be thrown into an Arena to survive on their own, facing every day and every night formidable danger coming not only from the Arena and their fellow Tributes, but also from their own nature. Judges will be monitoring every battle they give, every plan they execute, but in the end only one will reach them, standing alone in front of them to claim what is rightfully theirs. The glory.

While the speech went on, Harry couldn't help but notice that no mention of the origins of the Hunger Games had been given what so ever. The Head was currently reminiscing his own Reaping and the way he had jumped onto the stage when his name had been called, and all Harry was thinking was that either a lot of things had charged since that Reaping, or the man was lying through his teeth: no one seemed to be in a fit enough state to jump right now...

He glanced at Hermione and to his surprise she wasn't paying attention to the speaker, too busy wiping the tears from her eyes and giving him terrified looks. Ron next to her was holding her hand, face his characteristic green colour.

-The moment I faced the judges, the Head was saying in the meantime, is the best moment of my life. It is the moment that symbolized I had become a man. And now it is my turn as the new Head of Spiritus Academy to be the one to welcome you to this new phase of life. I am glad to see so many young witches and wizards ready to seize the greatest opportunity of their lifes. Your presence here proves you are willing to take a place in society among the other victors, known to the whole wizarding world for their wisdom, cleverness and kindness.

Kindness? Harry questioned in his head, where is the kindness in slaughter of children? However, nobody appeared to disagree with this statement. Or perhaps no one could concentrate on both listening and preventing themselves from vomiting.

-So, exclaimed the Head, let the Reaping begin. In those two tanks the names of thousands of teenagers from around the world have been entered. Only 30 of them will be announced. If you hear your name, please step on the stage quickly. Whoever fails to do so, will suffer the consequences of violating a magical oath. Thank you. Ladies first.

He started calling names. Girl after girl stepped on the stage, others looking scared and others looking scared to death. All of them made efforts to appear simply solemn, but no luck. The stiffness of their limbs and the half-smile made them look like they were having a stroke. And then:

-Riddle Ioli, called the Head.

Ioli remained still for a split second and then climbed onto the stage as elegantly as always, her face expressionless, not letting a single emotion pass through. She stood apart from the rest of the other girls sending them haughty looks. She was definitely one of the youngest of the girl Tributes, but she was quite tall too.

Harry at the moment made the oddest thought. With no real reason he had been sure that Ioli would be picked today, ever since she had mentioned her participation. And for some reason he believed Ioli knew too. It was hilarious in a sick sort of way to watch the other girls about to faint in their flamboyant dresses and her being alarmingly impassive dressed in almost black.

-It is time now to choose our male Tributes, continued the Head, a little louder than before, in an effort to stop the endless chatter Ioli's appearance had caused in the front rows of the Tributes to be. These were probably Academy students who knew exactly who she was.

Again boys of various ages were called, behaving not particularly cooler than the girls. More than half of the male Tributes had already been chosen, when the Head called:

-Potter Harry.

Feeling the air solidify in his lungs, Harry gasped almost audibly. Hermione and Ron groaned even louder. The next moment he found himself staring at the other children from on the stage. A few more names were called, and then it was over. They were told to stay in a room near the stage, while the rest were dismissed. Some of the children looked rather miserable that their names hadn't been called, crying with visible sobs into their hands. He tried to find Ron and Hermione, but it was impossible. He spotted a chair in the corner of the tiny waiting room ignoring his fellow Tributes who were eager to meet him and collapsed on it. He had just closed his eyes and was about to bury his face in his hands, when a steel grip seized his shoulder. He opened his eyes only to find himself facing a smirking Ioli.

-Since when do heroes break down and whine, hero ? she asked sarcastically.

-I'm not breaking down, he answered automatically.

-Oh, of course not, you were just annoyed by the noise these baboons are making. Sorry my bad. None the less it would be wiser if you focused on real problems. For instance your upcoming battle to the death, she deadpanned.

-Thanks for the interest Ioli. It's touching, but it would be more believable if you wouldn't be trying to kill me in a few days, you know. So please , leave me alone, he said unable to colour his voice with any kind of emotion.

-To walk to your death? You do have a huge hero complex, Savior. And I doubt that any trainer you are assigned will be able to understand that.

-None of your damn business, Harry cut her, now aggravated .

-Language! I would be glad to explain to you all of my reasons I think it is my business, but in private. Come tonight at the West Wing Ward and we can talk there. 8 o'clock. Sharp.

And with those words she strode to the door, opened it and left without waiting for permission. Soon after that, women dressed in orange outfits came inside to escort them to their new rooms and inform them about their program and other details of the coming days. Apparently in the next 3 days they would train at various weapons and physical combat plus lessons on survivor skills. At the end of the training they would have gathered points from their everyday training along with the extra, private sessions in front of the Council. This score was announced publicly so the Tributes would have a clear idea of the competition.

During all this time their every move would be supervised by a trainer. This person could be anyone who knew the rules of the Games. That also meant that Tributes who were already students of the Academy had a huge advantage, since the teachers- the most common and helpful trainers- knew them. But these Tributes had a huge advantage anyway...

_A/N:__Please let me know what you think._


	5. Chapter 5

_A/N: Hi there. A big thank you to those who reviewed the previous chapter, you made me blush, guys. _

_Disclaimer: Obviously I don't own Harry Potter, that belongs to the genius JK Rowling. Also I don't own The Hunger Games, that's Suzanne Collins' idea._

**Chapter 5**

He wasn't sure when and why exactly he decided to meet Ioli. Maybe it was the shock that made him completely numb, maybe the claustrophobia he developed in the small bedroom he was assigned or maybe just curiosity. He went anyway. The West Wing Ward Ioli was referring to was a rectangular garden with roses of all sorts of colours. It turned out that its official name was the Rainbow Garden. That's why it took him so long to find it.

When he arrived, it was completely dark. A tall, slender figure was leaning against a wall smelling a midnight-blue rose plugged from the nearest bush, a parcel in her hands. He approached carefully, slowly. Ioli had her eyes closed. When he came closer, they snapped open, trapping the moonlight inside of them , like a cat's.

-Are you always late at everything? she practically purred. Imagine I had not said sharp. I was about to leave. She was twirling the rose branch between her fingers.

-You didn't give correct instructions. Nobody knew were the WWW was. Only smn said it could be near the Rainbow Garden. You imagine my surprise when I found out they are actually the same thing! he said angrily through gritted teeth.

-I am not here to ask you on a date, wonder boy, Ioli said with a malicious gleam in her eyes. Or be you tour-guide. I would like to talk business with you. I have a deal to offer you.

-What makes you think I would ever make a deal with you? Besides it was you who caused all this mess.

-You are flattering me, she deadpanned. Because I believe that although you regularly show a worrisome tendency towards suicide and self-harm, in the end you do not wish to die. Bu there, without, help you will.

-I don't need your help. I don't need or want anything from you. You're right I don't have a death-wish and my self-preservation tells me that if I cut any kind of deal with you I'll end up with a knife in my back.

-Oh, no. No, no, no, never in the back. When I aim you, will be facing me . Backstabbing is for cowards, she said softly, her finger appraising the sharpness of a thorn. Listen, I understand why you do not trust me, but I am not asking for your friendship. It is an investment that will benefit us both. In the Arena you do not stand a chance. Let me protect you and in exchange i just want your support so I can win the Games.

Harry stared at her for a good 10 seconds before he could speak again.

-You have the nerve to come here to ask for my-my support? Do I look like a Death Eater to you? And how am I supposed to believe you don't want me dead? That you won't try to kill me after you've got what you wanted?, he tried to sneer, but he sounded more angry than he wanted.

-I have no interest in seeing you dead, Harry.

He noticed she wasn't using a mocking name now, nor was she playing with the rose.

-Right. You want me to live a long happy life and have twelve kids.

-To be more precise, Ioli continued ignoring the interruption , I have no particular interest in you and your life whatsoever, now that we got to know each other.

-Yeah, for 4 hours. You must've gathered a lot from that. We know each other for a lifetime, he mocked.

-It is surprising what one can learn if they observe instead of look. My parents never talked about you in any way. But I know you have a hero-complex. You wanted to know who lived inside the RH, you entered the room first, you talked and tried to attack me first. You are also not denying it, which means you have some grip on it. But not entirely. And that is enough to get you killed in the Games.

You asked why I do not desire your death. There are many reasons. Firstly, I care very little about other people, only in the concept of benefitting myself -the savior of the light included. Call me snobbish, but it is the truth. I could care less about what you do with your life, as long as it does not interfere with mine. My parents died, one by your hand, but it was their choice. I doubt they would want me to avenge their deaths, one must fight their own battles they always said. They would be more keen on me living my life. And with all honesty, my life now is hanging by a thread. With no family or guardian at 14, no gold, no house, I am unable to continue my education and therefore accomplish anything. Winning the Games solves most of my problems. I receive enough gold to get a small house and a position for post-grad- which with efforts begins next year. And I earn the respect I deserve from those gits, she added bitterly.

-They already seem to be scared to death of you, Harry said coldly. I presume they're right.

-They are dead scared of my parents, not me, she corrected him silkily. I do not wish for that kind of respect. Earn is the key-word here. On the other hand if you die in the Games, my family will be ridiculed, because the greatest Dark Lord was destroyed by smn whom a bunch of kids killed easily. It sounds terrible, does it not? Even if it is probably true. So, no, I would rather not see you perish in the hands of our fellow tributes. As for me, imagine how people would treat me, if it was world known I killed the savior of the wizarding world along with my heritage. My heritage will always be an inevitable disadvantage I suppose, but that would destroy me. Forever. No matter how many Games I won or degrees I held no one would dare offer me anything, not even a house keeping job or candy.

I presume there are enough reasons to prove my point. And if you want to put you in the centre of my arguments when you step in the arena run away from all the other tributes, survive on your own, do not approach others. Let us take care of things until there are few of us left. And keep this. These are memories from witnesses of previous games. There is a Pensieve in your room, use it , it will help you get an idea of what to expect. It is only my parents' games a lot of years ago, but it is something. Here, she offered him the package , you can keep them regardless of your choice to take my offer or not. The same goes for my previous advice. I am giving you help without asking anything in return. I do not wish your death., she repeated more urgently.

She must have said all she wanted because she remained still, with her package-holding-hand extended, her eyes studying him intensely. Harry focused his gaze on her hand, unable to keep connection with those glowing, blazing infernos, where emotions seemed to boil and erupt too quickly to keep track of.

Maybe it was an act too, being so passive-offensive, this multitude of emotions. Because he couldn't tell which ones were real-to be frank he wasn't sure how to pinpoint them correctly, but her arguments were pretty persuasive. Voldemort though was a master manipulator and so was his daughter. An oath, a powerful oath was all he needed.

-Oaths, vows and any means of magical bonding are illegal in the games. Before we reach the arena we will be drained from our magic so there will be no accidental- or not- magical events. We will get our magic back only after six of us remain fighting, she said as if she had read his mind.

-That's-that's thoughtful, he muttered still avoiding her eyes. She didn't react or even move. Do all children of psychopaths act so damn oddly? Before he could answer to himself, he extended his own hand and grabbed the small package.

Ioli smiled smugly.

-Good boy.

-Give me your advice in detail, he ordered.

Her smile turned into a smirk. She leaned closer.

-Your first dose of advice , she corrected. Of course. It is quite simple. I will ask-and be granted- permission to be your trainer. You could not get anyone better, if I say so myself. I have no need for extra training- 14 years are enough. I know every weapon, combat move and human response. I have been in class with most of our fellow tributes. Together we will assess your strengths and I will form a plan that will be explained to you. The general point is the following.

You cannot win, but you can survive without unrepairable damage. You have the advantage of being the light side's little lamb, no one will be thrilled to harm you immediately. All this if you survive the initial blood bath of course. There will be mayhem, more than half of the tributes will die. So you stay close to me. If you have a problem I come to aid you, but try to stay away from the battle as much as possible, although I have the feeling you will ignore this advice.

After the blood bath the strongest competitors usually form a group. I will be there and so will you. Because of our deal you will support me in the leadership battle- do not worry it will be bloodless- mere power games. The next days we comb the arena to find other tbs and eliminate them. You understand , the strong form an alliance to prey on τhe weak. Our basic task is to eliminate the _Traitors._ Tomorrow I will show them to you . They must not survive and because of that knowledge and their nature they can be very dangerous. If you do not wish to kill them you will stay behind to keep watch or go looking for food and other supplies- but more about this tomorrow.

At some point, the alliance will start dissolving, or the fights between dominant personalities will start. You will leave too, not in the beginning so you can stay close to me in order to protect you if someone turns against you, but not in the very end. The last battles are merciless, they will not do you any favours. From then on you will be on your own but with a wand and your magic. I suppose you can use them to defense yourself efficiently. Your vital problem will be getting food, since magic cannot help you there. This in combination with some minor injuries you will suffer due to encounter with animals, accident and of course other Tributes hopefully will be enough to remove you from the Arena bathed in flower petals. And you will live happily ever after, she concluded her speech in a whisper.

All the time she had been talking, she was leaning closer, speaking softer, more silkily, stroking the rose petals with her slender, pale fingers.

Now their faces were only a few inches apart.

If someone was watching from a short distance unable to hear their conversation, they would definitely think they were about to kiss, while in truth they were discussing about death and pain. His. Shocked by both realizations Harry tried to pull away and say something about the plan, but uttered only an incoherent mumble. Ioli laughed softly under her breath.

-I put up a lot of protective enchantments around the garden before you came. No one will witness us almost kissing, she told him guessing his thoughts again. Which could not be more wrong. I am not a masochist, like you. Her expression was smug again.

And do not look so shocked from my plan. The others will think you are a meal. It is your only option if you want to have ginger babies with Weaslette, anyway. The last one I read it in the paper, by the way. I am not using Legilimency on you, golden boy, relax. You are just too easy to read, she said a shark-smile on her pale face.

Now he came to notice. In the complete darkness, her unnaturally pale skin glowed like marble under the moonlight, her eyes still too turbulent to look.

Distracted by that, he tried to collect his thoughts.

-Fine, he said finally. It really sounds like it's for the better for both of us. But I'm warning you, if you don't keep your deal and try to kill me, backstab me or order one of your lackeys to do it, I will find a way of hurting you.

to his surprise her smile broadened.

-Do not tempt me, hero, because that might actually be fun. But, like you said, it is not in my interest and I am not self-distractive. Conclusively, you have my word that I will protect you from death and/or serious harm in the Arena. Do I have your word that you will support me there and not give me much attitude?

He remained silent for a second, then said solemnly:

-Yes, you do.

-Good. Tomorrow we will meet for breakfast at the dining hall. I will give you more information on the Games and the other Tributes before we begin your actual training. Do not be late, I will not tolerate it again. And tonight take a look at the memories I gave you and rest. They should help you get the point. Goodnight, she said in a velvety that showed no emotion.

She raised the rose branch like a wand and, to Harry's surprise, a cold breeze stroked his cheek.

Ioli had lifted the protective enchantments using a rose for a wand. How very disturbing.

_A/N:Please let me know what you think._


	6. Chapter 6

_A/N: Hey again, thank you for the reviews, they are very helpful :)_

_This was not initially part of the fiction, just two one-shots I wrote some time time ago, before Ioli was created. I thought though it would be fun to see Harry's reaction to these memories -evil grin._

___Disclaimer: Obviously I don't own Harry Potter, that belongs to the genius JK Rowling. Also I don't own The Hunger Games, that's Suzanne Collins' idea. ___

___This chapter is dedicated to my Pottermore friend Tongs, since yesterday was New Years Day in her beautiful country :) Tongs I don't really know if you exchange gifts for New Year, but this is for you.___

___As always a big thank you to Tarry who readand corrected all my spelling/grammar mistakes :)___

**Chapter 6**

He watched her disappear in the shadows, but moved again only when the soft footsteps were not audible anymore. He was probably crazy.

Yes,. That would be the only reason to actually take Ioli seriously. Her arguments really made sense but still it was just too much for his brain to conceive the idea of a child not seeking revenge for its parents' death, even in this messed up case.

Probably Ioli was a psychopath, a beautiful lunatic who couldn't understand her own emotions like her mother. Or a calculating, cold sociopath like her father, appearing normal, even charming, and then boom, she'd snap.

Harry wasn't sure which of the hypothesis was the correct one, but he didn't care much for now. The point was that Ioli was dangerous and he had just cut a deal with her. A deal with the devil.

Being raised in a lion's pride he couldn't cancel the deal or backstab her, but when she did he would be ready. He had to keep his eyes open to work out her deeper, interior motives so that he could be one step ahead. But for now he had the rest.

And the memories were a nice touch, too. They could help. And if they had been compromised for whatever reason, he was sure he would be able to tell.

Feeling oddly optimistic and energetic, he found his way to his room easier than he thought. . That gave him another reason to be cheery. He took a shower and then spotted a plate of food in front of a rectangular stone basin with runes carved on the side. The Pensieve. Grabbing a chicken leg, he emptied the first crystal bottle he found inside Ioli's package.

Harry sunk his face into the Pensieve's surface, but nothing happened. Afraid of being caught in a trap, he sat back straight, only to see that the Pensieve was now resembling a TV screen. The beautiful landscape of a West-European forest was materializing in front of a big lake. Thirty teenagers dressed in simple uniforms were standing on metal plates in the middle of the lake.

On the shore was sitting a huge, golden horn and around it various items, backpacks and weapons were scattered.

Soon sound found his ears to. The familiar humming of bees, birds and wind was interrupted every second as a golden clock counted backwards the time left before the Tributes were released from their plates. Harry scanned their faces. Some looked like they were dead, others determined or even slightly manic.

He spotted Bellatrix easily. She was standing in the left side, as beautiful as her daughter, only younger -she was just 12. But her sapphire eyes were shooting lightning. She was going to fight hard. Obviously.

Harry was still focused on her when the counter hit zero and a loud gong was heard. With that, Bellatrix and the others dived in the water.

Ioli hadn't been exaggerating about the initial bloodbath. Because it was exactly that.

As soon as the first Tributes reached the golden horn, they sought for the weapons. A tall blond boy soaking wet caught the closest spear and threw it at a boy still close to his plate. He died instantly. When the water turned pink from the blood panic started to spread.

Bellatrix had reached the horn too. The blond didn't move towards her to harm her, on the opposite, he yelled at her that the knifes were in the Cornucopia -the horn. Bellatrix moved quickly inside and when she reemerged she was holding an impressive collection of steel knives. Swiftly, like she was doing it every day, she freed the first and threw it at the nearest girl. She coughed blood and collapsed, the weapon still shining in her chest.

The mayhem lasted for an hour. In the end, fifteen young bodies were lying in the sand, some semi-submerged in the water.

Around ten Tributes had managed to escape into the woods. A few had taken supplies like bags or a weapon but most had just sprinted into the safety of the trees. Six teens remained at the shore, Bellatrix and the tall blond boy included. This was the alliance of the strong, he supposed. Now all of them were sitting at the shore, trying to catch their breaths and check their injuries.

After a minute, Bellatrix rose to her feet and approached the corpse of a small boy. She stared at him with curiosity and then pulled the knife from his chest, before moving on to the next one. The others started collecting the weapons and the rest of the supplies.

It was nightfall when they were done examining everything available around them and sat down to rest. The blond seemed to be trying to take charge and indeed after some bickering with the eldest Tributes and a broken nose he did, under Bellatrix' haughty look. It was time for the hunt now deep into the woods.

A girl stayed behind to watch the supplies and Bellatrix volunteered to look for a certain Traitor on her own.

She left them taking food and weapons with her and Harry followed her for the next days as she traveled setting traps and examining the trees. Three days later her efforts paid back. The red-headed sixteen year old was dangling from the ankle in one trap. After that the only thing Harry saw was Ioli's (Bellatrix' he meant) smirk, before the boy started screaming as the poisoned knife penetrated his body.

By then the rest had eliminated half of the non- Traitors. All together combed the woods, tracking them with ease and killing them quickly. At some point they reached a small camp where the remaining Traitors sat, along with another girl with pigtails. After some debate they had formed a plan that resulted in frying both Traitors and a girl from the carrier pack on the electric fence surrounding the Arena.

This was the turning point in the Games. Only six left meant wands and magic. A voice coming from the sky as it seemed, informed them that their wands were left not-so-randomly in the woods. If they found their own they would get all their magic back, if not, only half. Right after the announcement the pack resolved into smaller groups, or in Bellatrix' case single individuals.

Two of the boys found two wands inside a hollow tree, but only one their own. The other boy attacked him physically until one got a wand. But suddenly he seemed tired, worn out and this was enough to get his throat slashed. The other, laughing seized the wands and collapsed from the exhaustion on the ground. It was then when the little girl with the pigtails appeared and although until then she hadn't shown any aggression at the sight of the wands she smashed his head with a rock. Effectively.

In the meantime the blond boy and the remaining girl found three wands, Bellatrix' included. Soon they collapsed on the ground agreeing that they should stick together for now and look for Bellatrix. Without a wand she didn't stand a chance against them. Slowly recovering, they headed towards the Cornucopia. On their way, they spotted Pigtails After a short fight the emaciated girl was staring at the trees blankly.

At the same time Bellatrix had reached the horn and found a wand there. The exhaustion everyone felt had actually made her pass out for some time time and she woke up only minutes before the two killers emerged from the shadows. Climbed up on the horn, firing spell after spell, the fight became heated very soon.

It also became obvious to Harry that the Dark Arts were openly used during those Games even from pre-pubescents. They were dueling for ten minutes when the girl shouted that perhaps Bellatrix would be doing a better job if she had her own wand. Bellatrix seemed to freeze for a second, a strange almost insane gleam in her eyes. Then hidden by the horn, she uttered coldly, commandingly:

-Give. Me. My. Wand. Now.

They realized they had lost the battle the second the odd, sparkling mist materialized. They shot spells at it but they were reflected. It threw them back with such force they fell to the ground bleeding from their ears, their noses, mouths, even eyes.

Bellatrix reappeared looking impressed with herself and then limped out of the Arena as the youngest victor in Hunger Games history.

Harry was still staring at the Pensieve after Bellatrix left the Arena escorted by healers fussing over her many injuries and the duo strapped on stretchers. They were probably alive, but knocked out for good.

What he had seen was frightening, mad. Teenagers turned in an instant into bloodthirsty killers with crazy skills. How was he supposed to survive even with all the help he could get? These Tributes were being trained for this their whole lives, they handled machetes and spears like their spoons.

And what about the Dark Arts? Here things got really bad. Their DADA at school had been admittedly laughable. They had learnt a few things, yes, but nothing to match this scale. He doubted Protego would save him from Dark Magic.

Perhaps Ioli was right. He needed desperately, otherwise he wouldn't make it. And this realization made him even more vulnerable to her, depending on her for protection. Excellent! He wasn't sure if he could bear another version of the Games, this time with Voldemort in the spotlight.

In the end he did it.

Now it was a rocky hill and fourteen year old Tom Riddle stood on his metal plate waiting for the clock with an expressionless face.

The bloodbath caused again the death of fifteen Tributes. The five "strong" who remained, immediately accepted Riddle as their leader although he was the youngest of the group.

Things went on in a similar way. The Carriers spent their time hunting for Tributes in the nearby caves.

An interesting twist occurred when during a raid one Tribute after killing a member of his own cave pack begged to be accepted by them, since that killing proved what he was capable of. Riddle agreed and no one seemed willing to contradict him.

For the Traitors they decided to burn them inside the cave they were residing. The plan worked as three out of four were practically grilled alive. Only one survived and soon received an ugly gash on the thigh from Riddle and was left for dead alone.

Back at their camp, the six Tributes were resting from the tension of the day and recovering from the smoke inhalation due to the fire, when a casual conversation between two Tributes became a heated argument. Two minutes later they were both lying dead on the ground. They had used their knives during their fights.

Nobody had made the slightest attempt to stop them while they fought. Riddle was sitting on a rock looking at them lazily, as if their blood was not pouring in a fascinating manner.

After the bodies disappeared the same voice from the other memory filled the Arena. The five remaining Tributes would be given their wands and their magic.

The wands would be submerged in a lake. Before the voice was done talking, Riddle was gone in search of the cave where the lake was in. And it wasn't that difficult to be found -everyone did; almost at the same time.

The remaining Traitor, limping and hot from the fever his injured leg had caused him, in the sight of his wand lost his mind. He jumped into the water and started diving to catch it. The boy who had joined the pack later, probably thinking that the Traitor was too self-absorbed to notice a potential threat dove too.

The two of them were having an underwater fight while the three remaining Tributes stared at Riddle was only on the surface interested in that.

With some difficulty, Harry noticed that his lips were parted slightly. he couldn't hear anything, but he was sure Riddle was speaking in Parseltongue. Soon enough a long snake with black and red stripes appeared from the back and under Riddle's command it attacked the tall eighteen year old girl standing next to him.

While she was letting a scream of pain and surprise, Tom jumped in the water ignoring the fighting pair and reached his wand. The exhaustion was so overwhelming that he seemed unable to pull himself to the surface.

At the same time the lifeless body of the newest member of the pack sank to the bottom of the lake and the half-dead Traitor vomiting water and blood on the stony shore. The last boy standing hadn't yet caught up with reality.

He stared wide-eyed at the dead boy and the dying girl. Then at the Traitor who was passed out, a pink foam around his mouth. And in the end at Riddle who lay gasping and coughing on the shore. A deranged smile crossed his lips. He dove, reemerged and tried to drag himself to the shore. Riddle was still there, spasms shaking his whole body.

-Riddle? asked the boy faintly. He didn't answer, just continued gasping for air, until his body went completely limp.

The other boy was looking at him with a mixture of disbelief and mania. And when a full minute passed and Riddle's breathing was non-existent, he rose laughing and ran towards the exit of the cave.

He was in the middle of the distance when a deafening sound assaulted their eardrums. The nearest stalagmite has exploded, turning the boy into small pieces of flesh. Riddle had his wand in his hand, eyes closed to protect them from the explosion and very, very conscious, though even paler than usual.

He smirked at the place where the boy had been just a second ago and then turned his attention to the Traitor. He raised his wand and the boy's face from blue became grey-white. And then he rose to his feet and with a slow, delicate pace in order to protect his injuries from further damage walked, like Bellatrix towards the exit of the Arena, a victor of the Games.

The Pensieve's surface had become transparent again, but Harry didn't move, too numb to blink.

When he felt his senses coming back to him, he rose from the chair and simply collapsed on the bed without going under the covers or bothering to finish his long-forgotten dinner.

That was a hell of a lot of things to take in, but in the back of his head he heard a small voice telling him that this time maybe, just maybe, he had gotten himself into too deep.

But all he could do for now was sleep the shock off.

_A/N: Please let me know what you think. Bye for now._


	7. Chapter 7

_A/N: Hey again and thank you for the reviews :) Enjoy_

__Disclaimer: Obviously I don't own Harry Potter, that belongs to the genius JK Rowling. Also I don't own The Hunger Games, that's Suzanne Collins' idea. __

__The Magical Theory that appears here is my attempt to explain JK's info on the Patronus Charm, hope it works out.__

**Chapter 7**

He woke up a few hours later by a knock on the door. An unbelievably happy woman came in his room to invite him for breakfast at the Tributes' Dining Hall. His brain was still slow and fuzzy, not really accepting what he had witnessed last night.

He took a shower in autopilot thinking that the best he could do was talk to Ioli. She may be a -bitch for lack of a better word, but she knew perfectly well how things worked here and he needed the information.

Harry found the Dining Hall with difficulty, basically from the noise the thirty Tributes were making. Ioli was standing apart, her nose wrinkled delicately over a plate of pancakes.

When she saw him standing at the entrance, she took a full of food plate lying beside her and _greeted_ him.

-Good morning. I distinctly remember telling you to rest. You constantly fail in following simple orders. We will have to work on that too. It is very counter-productive, she deadpanned.

-Hey, haven't you put him on a leash, yet, have you, Salzara? said tauntingly a tall black-haired boy making his female friends giggle.

-Is that an offer, Sevanus? I always thought you were the dog-collar type, but this is very accurate. I am that good.

She turned to Harry.

-Come. We will have breakfast elsewhere, the noise is unacceptable here.

She handed him the other plate and left the room without looking back.

-You'd better follow your girlfriend, she gets out of control easily, you know, the boy called Sevanus instructed in a low, mocking tone.

Running, he caught up with her at the stairs. Before he could barely say a thing, she started talking.

-Judging by your eyes, you had almost no sleep last night because you looked at the memories, am I correct?

He nodded in response. He wasn't sure he wouldn't vomit if he opened his mouth.

-Then I suppose you have a lot of questions. In here.

They had reached an empty biology class. Microscopes and skeletons were exhibited on the walls and benches. Somehow. Harry found that the creepiness of the room was a fine combination with the subject of their talk in an awful, sick way.

-Eat all the food. I know you would rather nor, she cut him off, but from now on you have to act for your own health , not your apetite. The same goes to your sleeping schedule. I will explain while you eat. First question? she asked, her face completely blank.

She wasn't bothering to smile or sound pleasant anymore. Maybe because the Games had officially began or simply because she wasn't much of a morning person, Harry thought.

-Uhm, he began very eloquently, distracted by the huge amount of food in his plate. Why-why did everyone look so tired after they got their wands back? Your mother fainted.

-Mmm, she purred , I see you are starting to use your grey matter, wonder boy. That is a very good question ad an important strategic point too. as I told you last night, before we enter the Arena we are drained from our magic, we get it back only when we find our wands, which happens after only six Tributes remain. But getting back high levels of magic in such a short amount of time is very tiring, indeed. Look it up in books. It has been known to wizard kind for centuries. And the stronger the magic, the more severe the exhaustion. That is the reason my mother collapsed. Her amount of magic and her young age were an explosive cocktail -how ironic is that?

Anyway, my father, who was older, did not react as badly. However, he was very vulnerable for a while. I will come back to that later though, it is of high importance and you should begin with smaller things. For example, I suppose you noticed a few similarities between the two Games.

The bloodbath, the packs, the hunting, the Traitors, the fights, the victor. And the survivors. All these happen every time. This is very helpful for you, because you can prepare yourself. We will train together for the next three days focusing on combat and survival skills. That is food, traps, water, etc. You will need those, since we are not sure what amount of supplies we will be given.

Now, I take it you have never used Muggle weapons, like knives and swords?

-Ummm, yeah I haven't. And I doubt I can learn enough to match what I saw in the memories, he answered dully.

He wasn't lying, the Sword of Gryffindor and the Basilisk were a very special occasion and he was positive it wouldn't be a good idea to tell her that story. It didn't change the situation, anyway. Pure luck had saved him back then.

Ioli shot him a mildly incredulous look.

-You know, it would help if I knew the exact extent of your abilities and past. Since you are not saying anything, I presume it has to do with my parents. But also you wouldn't lie about something that important. So I must conclude it was a one-time thing? she asked delicately, her head tilted on the side.

Again he was taken aback by her accuracy. before he could say anything though Ioli spoke again, her eyes blazing.

-Yes, I see. Hero-complex and low-self-esteem. Disastrous qualities for a Tribute. No matter how engaging the Light Side finds them, in here they are equal to a death wish. So that brings us to another matter. Tributes. as you may have noticed, there are many types of personalities here. Alpha, shy, brawny, nerds. Everything goes, but we all have one thing in mind: Winning. For the glory, the respect, the riches, the position you get at the Academy. Most of those who are not students, desperately want to work here and the Games are a full proof ticket. They have probably tried to study with us, but for whatever reason they did not continue. That makes them bitter at times and therefore unwilling to join us in alliances. Once or twice they formed an alliance of their own basically to defeat us. It was quite fun to watch. the corners of her mouth twitched upwards. Anyway, if one of them is actually talented and willing we do accept them in the pack. So when we go for training, keep your eyes open to evaluate them, we might recruit one or two.

The only one I know is Millie, sixteen years old. She used to study here, her parents are rather affluent, but her sister committed suicide two years ago. Obviusly she is still grieving so very smartly she dropped out of the Academy. She is still not in her right mind given her decision to participate in the Games. Her psychological condition makes her unpredictable and weak at the same time.

The rest of our pack will include Academy students. The tall boy, Sevanous, is very strong, his spells have power, bt he is a jerk. That means he will attempt to take the leadership. The fact that he will lose, will make him savage, irritable, and very, very angry at you for supporting me.

So I hope you direct that witty tongue of yours at him.

The other Alpha is Marta, the one with orange hair. She is seventeen as well. She is also powerful and ambitious, her father works here you see. She would not follow Sevanous in a power game, she will try to lead herself, but will not react that badly when beaten. Stay away from her anyway.

The last seventeen year old is Amaterasu, Amy for short. Basically she loves Mind Arts. Practicing, experimenting is all she does. Her main goal in the Games is to walk out alive. She knows excellent Judo though which makes her a good addition to the pack and a dangerous opponent early in the Games.

Then we have Stella, sixteen, the one with the short curly hair. She is smart and she hates me, because in her opinion if I never existed she would be crowned Miss Ravenclaw. Sadly for her the crown is rightfully mine and will always be. She can pose as a potential threat, she is an opportunist. Be extremely careful around her.

There are no more sixteen year olds, only a fifteen year old boy, Litus. He's the small, sandy-haired one. You will meet him, he is nice, does not talk much -thank Salazar. He is relatively young, but still reliable and mature. You have to be in good terms with him, he will become our main ally in the Arena. Are you following me for the time being? she asked raising a single eyebrow.

All this time Ioli had been talking he had been trying to keep mental notes, but at some point he had lost the game.

-Err yeah, well, you know, why don't we just go to the Gymnasium to meet them, instead of -

-Because you need information, hero, fast and complete, she answered an urgent ton in her voice. We are not here to make friends, talk about our favourite food and pets. In three days all of them will be trying their hardest to kill you. In fact, they are already thinking about it.

So if you wish to rebuild the wizarding world with your own hands and not through your memory pay attention to what I am saying. And eat your food! she added giving him a piercing, threatening look.

You saw in the memories how emaciated all of them became. You need to eat now because the next two weeks this, she pointed at the plate, will be a luxury. We cannot be sure we will be given food or if the habitat will contain edible plants and/or animals. Plus none of us are very good cooks and food poisoning is tricky, i assure you. So eat as much as you can.

-Hang on! With no food how will we survive? asked Harry panicked.

-Cannibalism is not unheard in the Games, she said lazily, but when Harry's eyes widened to Galleon size, she rolled her eyes. I am teasing you, hero. There are plenty of ways to get vital nutrients, but it can get rough.

Back to the Tributes now. The Traitors were left last since they pose the biggest threat early in the Games, especially to you. These children were caught spying on countries or faced similar accusations and were found guilty. Of course the penalty for treason is death, but because of their age, some countries have made a deal with th Academy: participation in the Games. Many underage convicts agree, since the possibility of dying decreases from hundred percent to the amazing ninety nine point eight percent.

We always hunt them down and kill them, but occasionally one survives by accident, luck or intention. Case study: My father's Games. You remember how he revived the boy in the end. That was a brilliant move. You see, the boy had proved his intelligence by figuring most of the Carrier's plan out and making it second. So,my father thought that having his life back would make him eternally grateful. And he was right, Marius has been faithful only to our family since then.

To return now to the Traitors in hand, there are three this year. Two eighteen year olds and one sixteen.

That one is a Macalian spy, highly trained, clever. He must be eliminated fast or he might become lethal.

The other is a girl who worked as a high end escort, while stealing important data from her clients. I suppose she is dangerous only to males, she said with a smirk.

Last but not least the tall boy with the scared face. He is an ex-soldier and had managed to manipulate everyone, even his Colonel, to smuggle gold, diamonds and Muggle guns in and out of the country, always for the highest bidder.

You realize none of those will go down quietly. Usually the Traitors of the Games become frienemies and form a small pack, a stupid strategy really because they are easily tracked and trapped. So, that was all about our fellow Tributes. Any questions on that?

-Umm, no I don't think so, Harry said, slightly dazzled by both the torrent of information and her tone. She had said all that as if when were reading from a very boring book.

-Alright then, she mimicked his sheepish look, on another matter we move. I want to believe you are at least OK with your wand work?

-Well, yes, of course I can make things work, but nothing in that scale. I mean, I didn't even know the spells. In the memories everyone used Dark Magic as if it e=was not a big deal, he said almost accusingly.

-It is not a big deal, hero. Just because you think the Dark Arts are vile and evil, that does not mean you are right. You have been brain-washed by Dumbledore who had his own reasons to be afraid of them, you and I both know them, but your idol's opinion is oversimplifying a rather complicated matter. The difference between dark and Light magic comes from the mental energy one uses to cast a spell. In Light Magic you use happy feelings, thoughts, while for Dark Magic, darker ones, like anger.

At the same time though you may be able to cast a so-called Dark Spell for a good purpose, to save the life of a friend for instance. Dividing spells into dark and light is not a simple thing, so do not sulk. If you want to survive you will have to use such spells and be glad about it.

Now we have to go downstairs to the Gymnasium. There is one big training area and smaller ones, for privacy. We will go first in a small room so I can evaluate your work and then we meet the others. Would you like to say something about that? she asked politely.

-About dividing you said- Harry began but Ioli interrupted.

-Not about that, we will have plenty of time to discuss Magical Theory and Philosophy, but not now. I was referring to the arrangement.

-Oh, yeah I'm fine with that.

-Thought so, she nodded and strode out of the room without waiting for him once again.

_A/N: Please let me know what you think. A note on the names:_

_Amaterasu: is the godess of light in Japanese mythology_

_Sevanus: seva means cruel in Latin, the rest just sounded nice_

_Litus: means coast in Latin_

_Macala: is an imaginary country, just put together some letters and here it is._

_The others are just names I find nice :)_


	8. Chapter 8

_A/N: Hey again, thank you so much for the reviews, I've fixed what you pointed out._

____Disclaimer: Obviously I don't own Harry Potter, that belongs to the genius JK Rowling. Also I don't own The Hunger Games, that's Suzanne Collins' idea.____

____This chapter is dedicated to Aura, because, as the Claw she is, she pointed out the controvercial part early on. Dear friend, true Claw das ist für dich :)____

____A thank you to Tarry because she corrected all my mistakes in spelling/grammar/vocab when she doesn't have to :)____

**Chapter 8**

They reached the Gym ten minutes later. Harry was still boiling with anger due to the discussion -monologue, he reminded himself bitterly- about the Dark Arts. Not only would he be thrown in an Arena where he would probably die, but at the same time he would have to go against his moral code . His strict moral code. He had never killed anyone nor did he intend to. Of course at the final confrontation with Voldemort he knew that his actions would probably cause his enemy's demise but... he was Voldemort. He deserved worse than death.

And his daughter...? Ioli was walking beside him, her face an unreadable mask. No emotions were shown, though her green eyes were scanning every bit of the corridors they passed, as if she were expecting an attack or prank at any point.

For a moment he felt a hint fascination for this elegant, brilliant orphan who was impossible to understand. True, he could not tell if any of her reactions were genuine or an act.

She suffered so many mood swings so quickly, that for a crazy second -or not so crazy- he had the idea that indeed every bit of her behaviour was a wall to prevent them from seeing her real self.

If this was the case, then it was a very clever strategy he had to admit, because every other strategy is supposed to be based on knowing your opponent. So, if he had no idea who she was, he was impotent against her.

Hmm, like a shape-shifter... Controversies. That was the word that described her best, he decided. He gave her another quick look, only to meet her intense gaze.

"It's rude to stare" he uttered uncomfortably.

"Yes, you should watch your manners" she agreed with her now-distinctive smirk, "especially towards a girl. It might give the wrong impression."

She turned her face back to the corridors. After another minute of silence, he couldn't stop himself.

"I can't use Dark Magic, Ioli. I simply can't and I'm not going to kill anyone either. I never asked to be part of this and I won't come out of the Arena with blood of children on my hand-"

"No one asked you to kill anyone" she answered dryly, not bothering to face him.

"But you said-"

"I never said anything about you killing others. You were just not paying attention. To be more precise, I told you that if you do not wish to take part in the hunting we will find an activity to occupy yourself with, gathering and guarding most likely. So stop sulking, Golden Boy, it is really unattractive."

He gaped for a second and then:

"Well the Dark Arts though-"

"We will talk about that in private."

She was still not looking at him.

He stopped talking. That behariour was... frustrating. She decided when and for how long they were going to have a conversation and then she practically talked alone. It was like she didn't even think that he had something else to say apart from asking questions... It was like she didn't know how these interactions worked.

And with a jolt he realized she probably didn't. She had never been to school and here the others treated her with fear and respect because of her legacy. So she never really had friends or conversations with... equals. And Godric knew the conditions in her house and how talkative Bellatrix and "Uncle Dolph" were. He bet his entire Gringott's account the answer was not much.

All the same, he stopped talking, but no way he was letting it go. He wasn't going to take lessons on the Dark Arts by the... Daughter of Darkness. Although he was mostly likely going to die -no matter what Ioli said, he was sure he woud never be able to produce these amounts of magic- he was going out with dignity. Period. He was determined and no psychopath would change that.

Ioli let out another soft, sarcastic laugh giving a slight nod with her head and muttered "stubborn".

A moment later loud noise reached their ears. The training Area was close.

"Yes, the Gym is right at this corner" but she blocked his way with her hands which were surprisingly strong despite their slender, delicate structure.

"Before Training officially begins, the Administrator will inform us about the Area and maybe give us advice. After we are dismissed, we are free to roam freely from station to station and the private areas as well. All the other Tributes will have their Trainers along, many of them are teachers or previous Victors. They will be delighted to meet you, talk to you, but you will make it short. You cannot afford spending time on chit-chat while your training awaits."

She removed her hands from the door and made an elegant gesture towards the corridor.

Harry nodded and, after taking a deep breath, they moved towards the Gym.

It was a huge area with modern design, equipped with all sort of ...things -for lack of a better word. These were probably the "stations" Ioli had referred to. Around the room smaller compartments about different activities, like climbing, throwing knives and putting up snares and also a few full books (!) . At the left corner he spotted a series of doors. The privaterooms.

The Gymnasium was full of people. All the Tributes were there dressed in simple uniforms or training outfits. Ioli alone stood out with her plaited skirt, mary-jane shoes and high stripped socks, but she didn't even seem to notice. She remained apart from the body of people only greeted politely some of the older members, who were, Harry was certain, teachers at the Academy.

Maybe he was imagining things, but they too looked at least uncomfortable in her presence. On the other hand they were thrilled to see him, shake his hand, welcome him to this shrine of knowledge. Ioli rolled her eyes, shot him a pointed look and then turned her attention to a tall, athletic woman called Atlantis, the Administrator.

"I think it is time" she told her flatly, but full of authority.

She nodded silently and asked for silence.

"Thank you" she began. " Tributes, welcome to the Training Center. As you know, this is a place where you are able to prepare yourself for the upcoming Hunger Games. You can occupy yourself with whatever you want. Only keep the following things in mind. First, most basic rule: no fighting with the other Tributes. Keep your energy for the Arena. If you wish to train in combat with someone other than your Trainer, a partner will be appointed to you. Four of the activities offered are compulsory and of course play a big role in your final training score.

These are aim with weapons and wands, stamina, climbing and duelling. The first begins at three o'clock. My personal advice is to show interest in the survivor skills as well. Everyone hurries to grab a sword or their wands, but exposure can kill just as easily and more painfully. Good luck" she said simply.

Chaos followed as all run to different stations. Atlantis was right, almost everyone went to the deadly weapons and duelling areas, but a steel grip prevented him from moving. Ioli practically dragged him to the last of the otherwise empty private rooms and closed the doors behind her softly.

"Shouldn't we evaluate the other's work, you know , for good measure?" he asked awkwardly, surprised by her complete lack of interest in the others. "You said-"

"Yes, but later. Now I have to know what I have to work with. We can improve your abilities , but nothing to decrease theirs. So, they are of little importance for now."

"But-but Ioli in a few hours I'll have to be evaluated on the use of things I've never even touched-"

"And your performance will not be improved much during this time. Apart from a few tips, there is little I can do about that. Relax though, the scores are not of much significance, especially to you, and because of his bewildered expression she continued.

"The scoring system in order to understand our competition, target the weaklings and the fighters. Since i will be protecting you, no matter how well you perform at this, they will have to accept you. Your strength will be duelling , wandwork by yourself. Wand out, I presume you have learned how to duel. Why not show me a few spells you think work well for you and then we have a real duel? " she asked politely, as if she was referring to picnic spots.

"Um, ok, with what should I begin?" he asked uncomfortably.

"You tell me" she answered tilting her head on one side.

"Defensive magic or charms?" he tried again desperately.

"Both. Just aim there" she pointed at the head of a dummy.

He nodded awkwardly and raised his wand.

"Reducto!" The head exploded into a million pieces.

"How about non-verbally?" she asked, her face blank.

He aimed at the head of another dummy annoyed by the lack of reaction and tried to concentrate. The head exploded again, but with much less violence.

"How many years have you been using non-verbal spells?"

"Two".

It was her turn to nodd, expressionless.

"Again."

They spent the next hour trying to match Harry's non-verbal magic to his verbal. It turned out Ioli was a very good teacher. Vicious and restless, yes, but her advice was helpful and her observations impressively accurate. Only at the end of the hour, when for thefirst time Ioli gave him a small compliment, did he realize that she hadn't even taken her own wand out.

"Good. Enough with that. You understand now that the general point is not concentrating on the incantation but on the effect of the spell, its magic. We will not come back to that, though I suggest you practice a few minutes in the next days. During the Games non-verbal magic will be a vital weapon due to the advantage of surprise. Of course Occlumency is equally important. Rumor has it you are not an expert. Is it true?"

Harry blinked.

"No, not an expert, but I can occlude" he said proudly.

"And I can use Legilimency, wonder boy, and so can most of the others!" She scanned his face with her piercing gaze.

"Hmm maybe" she muttered to herself. "We will work on your offensive and defensive magic now and after that I can take a look."

"Look at what?" asked Harry sure he wouldn't like the answer.

"Your mind. I have an idea, but it can wait" she gave him a dazzling smile and took her wand out quickly.

"Amaze me!" she ordered and the smile turned into a smirk.

Thirty minutes later Harry was lying on the floor breathless and trying to convince himself that not every bone in his body was broken. Ioli was brilliant at duelling. And ruthless.

She didn't wait to take turns on spells, she just fired again and again. She even used bluffs pretending she was about to attack in one way or that she was tired, only to make him drop his guard down and then flatten him. And the worst part was that she hadn't even began to sweat all this time. Towering over him, the corners of her lips curled up for a half-smile. She kneeled beside him.

"Where does it hurt?"

"Everywhere" he spat. "Couldn't you leave just one bone not broken? I might need them the next days."

She snarled, her face still oddly solemn.

"Only your ribs are broken, the rest is just bruises. I can fix them for you."

Without waiting for an answer she started pointing her wand at his many injuries, relieving every body part of the pain. While working, she continued talking, too.

"Healing spells could have disastrous effects if not performed correctly and sometimes it is difficult to choose the appropriate one from the extensive variety. It would be irresponsible of my part to attempt teaching them to you in such short notice. We just have to hope you will have some dittany when alone. Your duelling skills are quite good, you are sufficiently quick -Quidditch reflexes, Seeker I believe?" and without expecting any confirmation she went on "you understand fairly well the dynamic of the duelling pair and the potential weakness of your opponent. On the other hand your abilities are limited by clichés like the one-after-one duel and your knowledge of offensive and defensive magic is limited too. Half of the times the duel ended was because you chose spells that had no protective effect against mine. Instead you use charms and everyday jinxes to replenish the gap. This technique can take your opponent by surprise if used wisely, but without measure it is just insulting.

In short you have the correct instincts and we need to expand your stash of spells." she concluded and with a final flick of her wand she fixed his ribs ina rather painful way.

"Ouch, that one really hurt" he muttered. "Usually breaks are treated by potions I thought?"

"Do not whine. Babies have no place here. That was quicker. Besides would you like to limp outside and ask for a healing potion because a little girl flattened you at a duel? Thought so" she replied to the jerk of his head. "To cheer you up though, I flatten the rest of them too, so that was the worst you could ever face in that Arena."

Harry tried to ignore the fact she had called herself "a little girl" seconds after breaking his ribs with a hex he didn't even know existed and focused on more important things.

"You didn't use Dark Magic" he said slowly.

"I did. Actually most of my spells were Dark. They always are." she sighed at his stupidity as if he was tiring her.

"Like I said, very few spells are purely Light or Dark. The Patronus Charm is one of them. The rest can belong to either categories, in which, depends on the feelings the caster uses. If they are based on happiness or affection, the spell is Light. If they are based on hate or anger Dark. You tend to divide them based on the effect a spell has -to protect, harm or heal- but this entirely wrong. And unreliable, because there are times we use a distractive spell in order to save someone. Less than half an hour ago you used an explosive hex to kill the dummy, but you could have used it to free a friend trapped under ruins, saving their lives. That is an evil purpose, no?" she asked delicately.

He stared back at her angrily, a defiant gleam in his green eyes. The problem was that Ioli's words sounded irritatingly correct.

"This is the reason Cruciatus and the Avada Kedavra curses are unforgivable and only them? Because they need real hatred and sadism to be performed?" he asked slowly.

"Exactly. There are other curses tht the Ministry rates as 'unusable' and 'illegal', but only due to a certain... exorbitance and knowledge of human behaviour. The Imperius Curse is added to the Unforgivable ones because it is considered unethical by every means to drain someone from their free will. But again one might argue that compelling someone to overcome an irrational or not fear to head to safety is a fairly well justified act. You see, even in extreme cases debate can take place.

Anyway, to sum up, you can use all your happy feeling to produce magic and i will start teaching you defensive spells more efficient with Dark Magic."

"Alright" he said carefully, a little fuzzed but the information he was getting, trying not to think that his life-philosophy was burning down in flames. But all the same she did have a point.

Unfortunately, half an hour later he had done next to no progress with the counter-curses Ioli was showing him and she was starting to lose patience.

''I envy you'' she said exasperated. ''You must be terribly content with your life to not be able to cast nothing more than a weak shield against my spells. We are taking a break. If you get under the influence one more time, I will not be able to stop you from bleeding internally'' she pocketed her wand furiously. ''And dying'' she added pointedly.

''I mean, I understand it is a major change, but everybody has a reason to be angry, even the Light Side's Savior or however you are ca-'' she froze unexpectedly.

Harry, who was about to argue that feeling anger about the Dursleys and Voldemort was one thing and trying to prevent himself from being disembowlled -the curse Ioli was casting- completely another, gave her an impatient look.

''What is it?''

''I suppose your problem is that the anger you are using is directed at... people who cannot harm you anymore, my father for instance?'' she asked quietly.

''Umm yeah. Among others..."

"You need something more urguent and contant. An idea is your participation in the Games. Think of the tradition itself, the Council, me, all these are reasons to make furious, right?'' and then she continued promptly "Here, let me get this very clear. I am fourteen and I can beat you in every test and magical expression. Plus, I am teaching you the Dark Arts just like my Dad. You do have reasons to be mad at me. Try again'' she ordered '' and keep in mind my mother killed your only hope for family you were left, my dear.''

She smirked, a sadistic pleasure in her eyes as his expression darkened.

Her wand was out in a split second.

''Eviscero!''

With real hatred and sorrow in his heart this time Harry screamed out loud the incantation. Ioli's curse backfired and she ducked to avoid it letting out something that sounded like a triumphant cackle. The rebounded curse shattered the mirror hanging on the wall.

She rose to her feet instantly to examine the pieces of glass and turned to face him, a somewhat sarcastic gleam lighting her eyes.

''Much better, dear.''

''Don't call me that'' he blurted out. He was still boiling, blood pounding in his veins.

''Why not? If it aggravates you, it is our best solution.''

''Because it's ridiculous and untrue. You don't like me and dear is used to show affection. Or are you developing Stockholm Syndrome?''

It was his turn to smirk.

''What makes you think you know my emotions better than me, Golden Boy?'' she asked dangerously. ''You have more reasons to hate me than the other way round. And I highly doubt you would ever manage to abduct me. Besides you are not the worst type of person I have been unlucky enough to meet, so I could be saying the truth''

Her face was an unreadable mask again.

''Your messed up psyche is flattering me'' he muttered. ''Really."

She smiled chillingly.

''That is enough for now, you look very tired. It is almost twelve o'clock. Go eat at the Dining Hall with the others. While you are there spot the Tributes I told you about, talk to some of them. Be here in forty five minutes. We will discuss Occlumency and you can try your abilities at the aim station. For the show later.''

''Aren't you going to eat?'' he asked confused.

''I have errands to run'' she answered simply and walked out of the room.

''There is one good thing though'' she called from the door ''You seem to have high tolerance in pain. You will need it, dear.''

_A/N: Thanks for reading, please review, your opinion is important to me._

_Eviscero: means to rip or disembowel in Latin_


	9. Chapter 9

_A/N: Hello again, thank you for the reviews they were very sweet :) This is a little short, but I'd like to show how the rest of the students view Ioli and Harry. Also as promised in this chapter Salzara has an explanation too. I'll probably update again in a few hours. For now, I have to go get a life... _

___Disclaimer: Obviously I don't own Harry Potter, that belongs to the genius JK Rowling. Also I don't own The Hunger Games, that's Suzanne Collins' idea. ___

**Chapter 9**

Lunch was quite enjoyable, he had to admit. The food was delicious and despite his full breakfast, he asked for seconds like everybody else. He also met the other members of his "pack" as Ioli called it. And to his not-so-big-surprise his fellow Tributes were exactly as she had described them, or that was his first impression anyway. They were all very curious about him, his life, his friends, school.

He was actually taken aback when they didn't ask anything about Voldemort and then with big shock he realized all these teenagers had until last year him as a boss.

They probably didn't know him very well -who did?- but they had some experience.

For his part, Harry tried to figure as much information as he could on Ioli. He found out, although the others were less than helpful, that she had been in the Academy more than any other. Her mother and uncle were bringing her here she was a toddler. She had just finished the basic curriculum, which was ''nothing like the one Hogwarts has, much more intense and full'' as Stella had informed him haughtily, and now wanted to continue with a degree in Magical Theory, a heavy subject in every way.

The interesting part was that she would be given that spot for post-grad education regardless her financial condition. No one here paid the Academy and, since she had exceptional grades, she would get a a small amount of money every month, about three Galleons. So maybe she had exaggerated a little when they first met. To gain sympathy perhaps?

He had to think about that. Well, that too.

From what else he gathered, Ioli had never had friends, or to be more precise, she hardly ever talked to anyone, only to give orders or taunt them. She was generally polite with the teachers though who always treated her with respect and fear at the same time Until lately, she would dress in exceptionally expensive, tailor made clothes because all the Carriers found the fact she was nowdays walking around in rags terribly believed that today's outfit had been snack out of her old house.

Marta told him in a conspiratorial manner that Ioli spent the rest of her year in the Academy literally working for her parents' projects at the Science Program, based on a conversation between Ioli and a stage two programmer she had once overheard.

That was all they knew and suspected about her. They never provoked her because they had seen her duel -Harry distinctly remembered his ribs burning at that point-and they were not suicidal. They were also hoping that the Games would shake her ''make her smug pretty face fall'' as Sevanous had muttered under his breath.

In Harry's opinion that was a remarkably small amount of information on someone they knew for so long. Some even for eight years. But Ioli was so unreachableand scary, that they didn't even try from one point on, directly at least.

The only part they dared make fun of was her name. Somehow someone had once heard that Salazar Slytherin was a relative of hers and so they started calling her Salzara. She didn't react so it stuck. They were surprised beyond imagination when he recalled that when she introduced herself she mentioned her ''nickname''. The conversation made him feel a little bit better at first. He wasn't completely thick being puzzled by her behaviour. The Carriers had explained their fruitless efforts to unriddle her moods, only to hit the wall hard, literally.

No one was able to describe her sufficiently and Harry had that feeling this had to do not only with Ioli's preference of a book instead of a friend. He was starting favour his previous theory about the shape-shifter and this was a step, but not a very helpful realization.

He had no clue to help him predict and prevent her actions in order to protect himself from her and, the worst part, she seemed to be reading him like an open book. His stomach twitched when he remembered what was awaiting him in the private room: Occlumency.

Mentally cursing himself, he headed towards the door, taking deep, calming breaths all the way long.

_A/N: Please let me know what you think :)_


	10. Chapter 10

_A/N: Hello again, thanx for the reviews, you are awesome people :)_

__Disclaimer: Obviously I don't own Harry Potter, that belongs to the genius JK Rowling. Also I don't own The Hunger Games, that's Suzanne Collins' idea. Extra disclaimer: The Occlumency theory here is based on ideas from the Fictionist in her Fate's Favourite story (chapter 91), I have permission to use it.__

__A special thanx to Tarry who has been putting up with all my serial language-killer things on English for all these chapters. Thank you dear Claw, without you this wouldn't be presentable :)__

**Chapter 10**

Before his hand could reach the handle, the door opened by itself. Ioli was sitting on a chair that had definitely not been there the last time he was in the room, reading a book in Ancient Runes and eating an apple.

-I thought we should eat to put on weight, he muttered. How many calories does an apple have?

-Twenty eight, but this is dessert, not that it is any of your business, she said absentmindedly, and for a second her irritation reminded him of Hermione, how annoyed she would get when interrupted while reading.

His mind froze with shock because it was the first time he had thought of his friends since the Reaping. He had a lot in his mind -more than a lot- but not once? He felt deeply ashamed of himself. The other two were probably terrified, thinking of him entering the Games along Ioli all day.

Maybe they were begging some jackass official to see him right now and he hadn't spent a moment to think of them. He was that self-absorbed... These were the effects of the Games, he guessed, they erased from your mind everything, except for your survival.

Ignoring the fact that Ioli was still reading her book and already provoked enough by his previous interruption, he spoke out loud:

''When do we have a free period?'' He had to meet Ron and Hermione as soon as possible.

Ioli's head shot up, pure anger burning suddenly in her turbulent eyes.

''Tired already?'' her lips shaped a shark smile.

''I need to see my friends'' he announced loudly.

Unexpectedly her smile fell and momentarily she looked... sad, but then her face hardened again.

''The final meeting with family and friends is scheduled on the evening before the Games'' she said, her voice soft, almost kind. ''I have to go get something, I will be back in two minutes.'' And she left the room leaving him alone more confused than ever.

Was that real kindness in her face? Understanding? And why did that ''thing'' sound like an excellent opportunity to give him some space?

Again he found himself questioning her abilities in acting. Could she be that good, mixing uncertainty, ''accidental'' splits of posture and sadness with her arrogant, confident, unreachable usual demeanor? She could...

In an effort to make happy, hopeful thoughts, he turned his mind to Ron and Hermione and how much he wanted to see two truly friendly faces, who didn't make him question their every move and word.

Ioli came back walking swiftly past him, holding a small bottle. She raised her wand and a second chair appeared, obviously for him.

''Now-'' she began, but Harry cut her off.

''Can't I see them sooner? I have to see them, they'll be petrified and Mrs. Weasley doesn't know we're here, she-''

''I am not a basilisk to petrify you, though I could find one if you want'' she said, her jaw set. ''I am sure your friends will inform every person who is concerned about you and your well being. Rules are rules. You will all meet your loved-ones in three days. No exceptions.''

He would have answered about how different it was for the others who were prepared for this, but his mind had been stuck at the ''you all".

But of course, how could he miss it. Ioli was so aggravated, because she had no one to meet that evening, no one to worry about her while she would risk her life in the Arena. That was indeed sad. Somewhere deep in his heart he felt an unexpected -and unwelcome-hint of pity for her and shame for violating her privacy earlier, thinking her only as a heartless enemy.

''Right'' he muttered.

''So for how long have you been able to occlude?'' she asked, pure professionalism in her voice now.

''Two months''

''Excuse me?''

''Two months'' he said louder, sounding more angry than he wanted.

''I heard you, I just found it difficult to believe you said that without blushing'' she said with contempt. ''Exactly this type of behaviour convinces me you are very bad indeed at it. You are aggravated and home-sick and facing a life-threatening situation, so you lash out. But I have news for you, hero. For the next weeks things will only change for the worse. So pull yourself together, compartmentalize, otherwise I will take your mind apart now and it will be over for both of us.''

He stared at her breathing heavily from the mouth.

''Sit down.''

With a final glare he dropped to the chair pursing his lips together tightly.

''Good hero'' her lips curled up on a smirk. ''Who taught you Occlumency?''

''Professor Snape'' he muttered stubbornly.

''Never had the pleasure'' she answered nonchalantly. ''But I presume the lessons did not turn out well?''

''How do you know that?'' he asked defensively.

''I have heard that name before when my parents argued . He was Headmaster at Hogwarts last year, but you were not there. That means you began lessons while you were still at school without any success . And then for some reason two months ago you finally got a grip on it. Can you recall how it happened exactly?''

Damn it! Was she really not using Legilimency on him already? Focusing on her question, he swore again mentally. He couldn't tell that story either.

''There is no reason to tell me the whole story if you do not wish to. The general feeling of the moment will be enough for me to understand your method'' she said lazily.

''I was sad, because... because a friend of mine had died'' he uttered after some brain-wracking on the memory and debate on the answer.

''Emotional-type, like I expected'' she nodded.

''Huh?''

''Excuse me'' she corrected him. ''I was referring to your technique.''

''Technique? All Snape ever told me was to empty my mind of all thoughts and emotions.''

''Yes, well, that was his method: stoic defensive. No surprise it did not work for you, it is the direct opposite of your own.''

''Um, wait there are different techniques with... names? I've never heard of that before.''

''You do not like Mind Arts, do you? Did you ever opened a book on the subject while you were studying? Of course there are different methods. Stoic offensive, stoic defensive and emotional offensive and emotional defensive. I suppose stoic defensive is what your professor used. Usually the subject removes all thoughts and emotions, locks them in a mental box, so that the intruder does not get any information. Stoic offensive takes that one step further, assaulting them with painful, scary events, like imagining an explosion or spikes. On the other hand the emotional defensive creates a ''mist'' of emotions, confusing the intruding mind on which the true feeling is. And if you use the offensive, they get flattened by the most painful, crushing emotions one has. You sound more like that one'' she concluded.

''Right'' he agreed after some thinking . ''And which one do you use?'' he dared.

She smiled chillingly evidently enjoying his dare. ''A more complex combination that includes Legilimency on the intruding mind my mother invented it. It is quite fascinating, but not for you. You lack a certain... interest in pain. I have two ideas that I believe could help you -the second is a back-up plan but we will see.''

''What do you mean?''

''If what I am about to show you does not work, we will retrieve to that, but it will be quite painful for both of us and tricky to pull it off in the Arena.''

''That's a nice description'' he muttered.

''Do not sulk'' she repeated we are wasting precious time. I will try to show you a combination of techniques, like the one my father did. He used both stoic and emotional, but both offensive. If someone could crack the nothingness of bombs, they were assaulted by the negative emotions inside. I want you to try the same with the two emotional types. Do not lash out instantly, let the intruder get lost in the mist of emotions, get confused and then attack. It gives you some extra time. What do you think about that?''

He highly doubted that he could actually pull it off, but he could try. The strategy was clever and Harry thought it was similar to Ioli's general attitude. Besides, that plan B didn't sound very appealing. He nodded.

''Ready yourself'' she said taking out her wand. ''Legilimens.''

+He was four years old looking miserably at the ice-cream trolley sweat dripping down his forehead while Dudley was eating a huge rocket + He was in Umbridge's office with blood leaking down his arm + He was staring blankly at Voldemort in the Ministry of Magic thinking he was about to die +

Ioli violently pulled herself out of his mind causing him a sensation like he was being stabbed in the forehead, her face a stony mask.

''That took 'poor performance' to a whole new level. One would assume you do not know what Occlumency is. It took me less than a second to find painful memories in your mind'' she whispered furiously. ''Forget what that professor said. When I invade your mind, you make thoughts of your own. Mainly on emotions. And try to give it some variety, happy and sad at the same time. Prepare yourself. Legilimens-''

Later that day, when his head was still aching, although it had been hours since they had abandoned Occlumency, he decided that Mind Arts were not his thing. Absolutely, definitely not. The throbbing in his head was much more severe that it had been with Snape -which said quite a lot- and when he commented on that Ioli had handed him a small bottle with pain-relief potion and simply said that her Legilimency was much stronger than the professor's.

From that point on, though, he was under the impression that she was playing it down a bit to make him last longer.

On the good side he had managed to occlude almost completely in the end. Ioli told him that it was enough to fool the others during the Games.

''Legilimency will be used against you in the Games for only two reasons. During a duel and to find out your plans. Your abilities at the moment cover the first possibility. For the second we will continue to practice. If by the end you have not mastered it, we move on to plan B. Now you have fifteen minute break. And drink the pain-reliever, you need your full strength for the show. I will be in the Gym doing warm ups.''

''OK'' he said rubbing his forehead.

Why did all this feel like a bloody déjà vu?

_A/N: Please let me know what you think. The Occlumency Theory is trying to explain the different approaches of Snape and Harry, sinde they were complete opposites but still effective. _

_The Bellatrix-approach on Ocllumency is what comes to my mind when I think ''psychopath''. _

_And yeah, an apple has 28 calories..._


	11. Chapter 11

_A/N: Hello again and thank you gor the reviews :)_

__Disclaimer: Obviously I don't own Harry Potter, that belongs to the genius JK Rowling. Also I don't own The Hunger Games, that's Suzanne Collins' idea. __

_This chapter is dedicatd to BookPrincess28 (Midnight on PM) for her help on Chinese. To even more chats and as a thanx and gift from me for starting fresh this is for you, dear :)_

_A huge thanx to Tarry for correctig all my mistakes in grammar/spelling/syntax._

**Chapter 11**

The potion tasted like Firewhiskey and it left his throat sore and itchy, but it helped immediately with the headache. He felt like he was out of his own body, his feelings as numb as his body, no noise coming from the Gym. The room was sound-proof most likely. He rubbed his forehead again, not out of pain now -not physical anyway- but confusion. He was completely alone for more than a minute and without an assignment for the first time since... this morning?

That couldn't be right, it felt like he was trapped in this situation for weeks, months. He had met so many new people, learnt so many new things...

Now he understood what Stella had meant about the program being frantic here.

And there was Ioli. The jolt in his stomach informed him he had developed a physical reflex when thinking of her. And they knew each other for less than a day...It had nothing to do with romance, Merlin no, but anxiety, yes. For what she would do, say and trigger in his memory.

Despite his best efforts he hadn't managed to even dislike her. Not that he did like her, but yeah, that shape-shifting made things so complicated.

She was bossy and awkward and related to Voldemort and Bellatrix -their freaking daughter- which meant she had a mental problem no matter what, but there were times she reacted too... humanly.

No, no this was wrong. He had to be careful. Didn't everyone think Tom Riddle was an angel from heaven before he revealed his desire to dominate the world?

Angry with himself, he rose to his feet and slammed the little vial on a table nearby. He had to be extremely careful, he corrected himself. Checking his watch, he headed to the door. Perhaps being so aggravated could be useful. Right now he felt he could hit any target with any weapon. Even Ioli herself.

Only when he opened the door and found all the Tributes showing off their abilities he felt a little weak on the knees. But it made him more angry too. Searching for Ioli, he passed Sevanous who was slashing a dummy in two with a steel sword and Marta handling a bow and arrows professionally. Both greeted him coolly and resumed to their activities. The problem was Ioli was nowhere to be seen. He gave a quick look at the stations around and although he could identify a few of the Tributes he had met at lunch, she was not among them.

A finger poked him on the shoulder and turning, he faced Litus. He had liked him more than the others. He was polite and not overly thrilled with their given situation, which in Harry's opinion meant a lot about his personality. Now, without talking, he pointed at the top of the Gauntlet. At first he saw nothing but then a slender figure climbed up there.

Ioli was wearing a jumpsuit like everybody else. She took a deep breath visible even from Harry's position and started running on the platform. Jumping, ducking, even doing acrobatics to keep her balance while the ground changed shapes and blazing balls attacked her, she moved as elegantly as a ballet dancer, not even blinking once. She finished her round landing gracefully just two feet in front of him, barely out of breath.

She favoured Litus a small charming smile and then turned to Harry, her features getting a malicious glow. She didn't say anything, only tilted her head and cocked an eyebrow.

''That was impressive'' he said with controlled admiration.

''Welcome to the Playground'' was all she answered to his compliment.

She pushed him away softly and started scanning his body feverishly.

''You are lucky, that Quidditch training might save your life. You are physically fit enough to work with probably every weapon or activity in this room. At the show we have to work with our wands and a with a weapon of choice. Bow, knife, spear, axe?''

He looked at her confused. How in the name of Merlin could he choose between things he had never laid hands on?

''Trial and error it is then'' Ioli concluded dryly.

He found the axe hard to handle and the expert of the station even worse. Ioli, obviously bored by the man and his impotence, took a big axe from the pile and decapitated the nearest dummy. The message was clear. The man stopped talking and they moved on to the next station: archery.

Things were better there as most of the times he hit the dummy and not the wall behind it. Sadly Ioli commented that the way he was holding the bow was reminding her of a half-blind monk reminding her of a half-blind monk she had met during a trip to China, struggling to read. Too bad...

Their next stop was knife-throwing. The tall black woman who was in charge showed him how to hold the blade and throw correctly, but soon he realized that the ease with which Bellatrix had been hitting her victims in her Games was too high an aim for him. Usually the knives simply fell to the ground with noise. He even managed to detach the blade of a chef's knife. Ioli ushered him to the spear-station rolling her eyes, as if she was taking personal offense at the misuse of the weapon.

At first the spears were hard to balance but he thought he did well. Ioli agreed.

''So, you stay here and perfect your newly discovered talent. I will be back in 45' to make sure you exist and are capable of casting spells''

Dining his training at the station he had the opportunity to meet with non-Carrier Tributes. It was when he realized that basically he was under-qualified only against the Carriers. Most of the other Tributes were in worse physical shape and had never seen a real spear before. However, he kept in his memory a few more capable than the others. An Asian home-schooled boy, Fang, who stayed at the station until he had managed five good hits in a row and would get stressed to tears when he had done a mistake. Millie, who seemed so angry at the dummy, she mutilated it with her spear. And the monstrous ex-soldier, who didn't say a word to anyone, just hit the target every time he tried. He, Harry had to admit, was scary.

So he was for the first time relieved to see Ioli approach them.

''Get out of my sight'' she said calmly but dangerously.

The boy -young man- looked like he wanted to answer to that, but under her chilling scrutiny, he obeyed.

''I see you are making friends'' she told Harry coolly.

''Sure. by not talking we are the best of pals'' he answered in a face cheerful tone.

''Do not get too attached, because he is the first going down.''

She tuned to the state-expert and after a few words the man nodded and with quick steps left.

''Why-''

''You will train here for the magical aim'' she said simply. Ioli took her wand out and suddenly all the objects of the station were levitated. With a second flick of her wand they started moving to different directions with various speeds.

''Note pad. Hit it'' she ordered.

That one actually was fun, he had to admit. He incinerated every object in the station with the first try. At some point he realized that many other Tributes were staring at them. Ioli didn't seem to notice, just continued calling objects. When there was nothing else to destroy the others clapped, but stopped right after Ioli eyed them angrily and then waved them away.

''Now you are starting to live up to your name, hero'' the hint of a smile in her mouth. ''Show them that.''

''I will'' he assured her, feeling a little more confident now. ''When is the show?''

She gave him an amused look at the use of her term.

''In eleven minutes. We will form a line in front of the Gauntlet, where the spells will take place. Then we go to the station of choice. The whole thing could easily take two hours. But after we are dismissed we can go for dinner.''

That last made him realize -again!- that it wasn't even noon. Why did he tend to forget that?

''It is hard for everyone to get used to '' she answered to his non-spoken question. ''As long as you feel well, we continue. Off to the Gauntlet now.''

As if rehearsed, the moment Ioli strode to the Gauntlet, everyone abandoned whatever they were doing -running, shooting, even doors of the private rooms opened- and formed a neat line behind her.

''Not behind me, hero'' she hissed pushing him far back.

The kid behind him made an angry gesture.

''You are going twelfth no matter where he is, as long as he is in front of you, genius'' Ioli told him with contempt and the boy shrunk back.

Atlantis walked forward and gave the signal to begin.

Ioli walked confidently and turned to the Game Makers.

''Riddle, Ioli'' she said in a formal note. The Head answered with a broad movement of his hands.

Targets started appearing just like she had done only a few minutes ago. Some had red spots for more accurate hitting. Ioli at first seemed to be utterly bored, but then she started improvising by sending the objects airborne into the Gauntlet. The others were staring at her wide-eyed and Harry would have done the same if he didn't think her ego was big enough. Besides he was positive she was being so intimidating on purpose. Sadistically.

And it was working. The short curly-haired boy in front of him looked in the verge of tears. When her turn was over, she turned to the Tributes , gave them a contemptuous smug look and addressed the Head again.

'Thank you for your time'' she added with an ironic elegant bow. And she moved to the spear-station, fixing it with a casual flick of her wand.

The next Tributes took the stage, some terrified, other calm with various abilities. In all, Harry was confident he did much better than average. Maybe he would live to see his friends again. This feeling intensified itself after the spear performance. For someone who hadn't seen a real version of the weapon until this very morning anyway.

Of course, some of the others' sessions were a bit... haunting. Sevanous took a spear and shot it completely into the dummy's heart and Ioli, this time last of all, proved herself as proficient as her mother at knife-throwing.

''Your mother was a very good teacher'' he told her on their way to the dining hall.

''A good teacher is never enough if talent and hard work are not present'' she answered icily. ''But yes, she was'' she added softer with an odd jolt of her shoulder.

They helped themselves to pork chops, mash and salad.

''So what are we doing after dinner?''

She gave him an appraising look ignoring her full plate.

''How is your head?'' she returned the question.

''Fine'' he answered automatically.

''I can tell when you lie, you know, your eyes become blank, Since it hurts so much, no more Occlumency for today. I suggest you visit other stations. Ignore the aim ones, you know how to attack from a distance, there is no need for that, just try to improve your spear-throwing. You could run maybe two laps learn a few useful moves in combat and even swim in the pool. Take a look at the survival skills too. They are useful, but I will give you books to study on edible plants etc. So prefer other stations like snares or fire-lighting.''

At his startled look she allowed herself an elegant sigh.

''Not all of them, Chosen-One. I am simply providing you with examples. Pick a few and do your best.''

''Right'' he agreed relieved that he wouldn't die of exhaustion just yet.

''Be back at your room at nine o'clock, we have to talk.''

She rose to her feet leaving her plate untouched.

''Aren't you going to eat?'' he asked surprised. ''And I thought food would be a luxury soon enough'' a slight edge in his voice.

''Being me I can get food anytime I want'' she answered in a sweet voice the one used to explain something very simple to a very stupid chld.

_A/N: Please let me know what you think. _

_So Fang with an ~ above the ''a'' means square in Chinese._

_Also, Melody (prestosmpj1999) says the Gauntlet is the name for the thing in the middle of the Training Center, since my humble non-English ears couldn't get the word. So a thanx to her too :)_

_Hope to see you on the next chap._


	12. Chapter 12

_A/N: Thanx for the reviews, you are very kind and the mistakes you pointed out have been corrected :)_

___Disclaimer: Obviously I don't own Harry Potter, that belongs to the genius JK Rowling. Also I don't own The Hunger Games, that's Suzanne Collins' idea. Also, Mozart's long gone, so he couldn't be pretending to be a FF writer to advertise his work...___

___As always a thanx to Tarry for correcting my spelling/grammar/syntax mistakes :)___

**Chapter 12**

Collapsed on his bed in the tiny room, Harry was facing the ceiling, eyes empty. He didn't even have the energy to fully dress himself after his warm bath. Every muscle in his body was complaining for all the pressure they had suffered during the day -and he had to add his brain to the list even though it wasn't a muscle...

After a day of learning, running performing, doing in general, he had had enough. Even Wood's training wasn't so intense or lasting. Which meant a lot.

With his brain fuzzy and body aching, he swore loudly when he heard a knock on the door. It wasn't really late -only twenty past nine- but the Gym would be empty by now, everyone had retired to their rooms for rest and private training. And now some jack-ass wanted to talk to him. Great! He walked slowly to the entrance cursing mentally a little more .

''What?" he growled opening the door not bothering to sound polite.

The cool, beautiful face of Ioli was looking at him with a bit of amusement at the end of her lips. Her eyes though gleamed maliciously in the semi-dark as she surveyed every inch of his poorly-clad body.

''That is certainly not a way to address a lady. You are still missing my points.''

His hands instantly shot up to protect his privacy. She had said they had to talk. How could he possibly forget that? Oh yeah, he just hoped it hadn't been true... But who cared?

''Right, you said you wanted to talk'' he muttered while searching frantically for a shirt.

''It sounds really bad if you put it like that'' she said playfully. ''We have to do an evaluation of the day's work'' she continued solemnly.

''Oh, it was great. You know running, climbing, fighting. I can't decide on the biggest highlight though. Was it when you cursed my balls off, when you gave me the worst headache ever or when I realized all this is pointless since I'll be dead in a few days?'' he asked drawling with sarcasm, almost screaming the last words.

A semi-smile crossed her lips and she answered calmly:

''I would say the first, though I would phrase it rather differently.''She took her wand out and tapped it on her thigh. ''You had the slowest progress there."

He gave her an angry look, fished a mustard-coloured shirt from the floor and turned to look at her, as she sat on the bed. After a moment's hesitation he did the same.

''So'' she began nonchalantly ''you have learned a lot of new things today. To sum up, you have improved the control over your magic both in non-verbal spells and Occlumency. You can handle a spear without embarrassing yourself completely and you are OK with duelling. You also showed sufficient stamina and are able to make a simple, descent snare by now.''

''Hey, you came to the Gym during afternoon training?'' he asked surprised. ''I didn't see you there.''

''Paying attention is not a strength of yours'' she answered smugly. ''I visited plenty of times to check on your progress, but you never noticed. I could have slashed your throat anytime'' she added, her eyes set on her wand fondly.

Despite her remarks a funny thought crossed Harry's mind.

''How did you get a wand?'' he asked slowly.

''Excuse me?'' Ioli returned bewildered.

''You said no one knew about you, but if you went to Ollivander's he should have known. He told me he remembers every wand he's ever sold and he and Dumbledore were friends. You wouldn't go to him...''

She appraised him for a second with amusement dancing in her gaze.

''I should add inductive thinking in the previous list'' she mused. ''How do you think I got my wand?''

''Foreign wand maker?'' he tried. ''Or Ollivander made you one while he was held captive?''

She let out a chuckle.

''So I have had a wand for only two years?''

''Err...maybe? I don't know, Ioli really I'm tired, forget it, I just had a-''

''You should not give up that easily. Your question was invasive, yes, but since you succumbed you should quench your curiosity'' she paused and when he made an unidentified gesture with his head she sighed elaborately. ''When I was three I was taken to Mr. Ollivander's shop and spent the whole night there to find a suitable wand. We paid him last year because, like you said, he would have made the connection that someone broke in his store for a wand if both a wand was missing and more gold was found in the shop. Before that I used my mother's or uncle's wands.''

''Good thinking'' he muttered. ''Didn't you get a wand at a very young age?''

''Jealous?'' she asked rhetorically, eyes burning with malice. ''The only reason the tradition of the eleven-year-olds exists is the Statute of Secrecy and to prevent Muggleborns feeling much inferior to the rest of us. But the sooner you begin, the better. And my house was miles away from Muggles, so there was no point in waiting. Actually the amount of magic a small child can produce is quite impressive even if the child is not me. Why wait then?''

''To wait for the Muggleborns is not a good enough reason, is it?'' he returned sarcastically.

''I am not going to reduce my own abilities for someone else who will not have much to offer to my society anyway'' Ioli said coolly. ''Societies have the bad habit of being improved only by a few of their members. It is a crime to sacrifice those just to make the dead weight feel better.''

''Watch your mouth!'' Harry shouted. ''Muggleborns are not dead weight!'

''Oh yes, they are, along with ninety-eight present of the rest of the population, regardless of their blood status'' she said with an emphatic nod of the head. ''Now, although our conversation is quite enjoyable and we should schedule a Philosophy-Tea-Party at some point, we have more pressing issues to attend to. The program of the following days, for example. Private lessons, training, show-time, homework, rest.''

Harry was till terribly angry with her previous words and by being forced to stop expressing his opinion like a schoolboy caught talking in class, but ''homework'' literally cooled him down.

''What homework? What do you mean, no one gave me any homework'' he asked, eyebrows raised.

''Not yet.'' She flashed him a smile and with a flick of her wand a stash of books appeared on his bed. ''Give them a look, especially the marked pages and learn the material. When you decide you have gathered enough information attend the respective station to test your newly-attained knowledge. I expect you to use the new spells during our duelling sessions.

''So you're going to give me a test or something? On the books?''

''An Arena full of poisonous plants and Tributes after your blood is not enough for you? Your Test starts in three days, it will be rough and you better be prepared for it. I am not here to babysit you. I suppose after six years of magical education you are capable of learning new things on your own without the fear of a test necessary, hero.'' she said with disdain.

''Don't call me that'' he said stubbornly.

Ioli simply eyed him haughtily.

''Fine, what else?''

''That was all about your training-''

''But?''

''There are other issues I am supposed to inform you about.''

''Like what?'' he asked impatiently. He was either imagining things or Ioli seemed a little... uncomfortable. As much as she could be anyway...

For all he knew she was delaying to answer which was a change.

''You have to understand, Potter, that in these Games nothing is certain. There is no guarantee you will survive, no matter what we all do. There have been Games with volcano eruptions or extremely low temperatures. No training could have helped you in such conditions.''

''I know, Merlin'' he yelled irrational anger burning in his chest, ''why are you telling-''

''You have to make a will'' she deadpanned.

''Err...what? What did you say?'' he asked confused.

''You have. To make. A will.''

''How? Where? But-'' he began numbly.

''Just take a piece of parchment, write down what you want to happen to your belongings, sign it and ask two other people to be present to the signing. For obvious reasons no other formalities are called for. After you are done, put it in an envelope and then slip it into the box sitting in the dining room. There you can also leave letters for the friends you will not see in two days. If you die in the Games, the letters will be delivered after the Victor's Ceremony to those addressed to via owl. If not, they will be returned to you that same day.''

Harry felt a weight settle on his chest. That wasn't fair. He hadn't even said that things couldn't get any worse!

''And my body?'' he asked. He felt an odd urge to laugh. Of all the things he could say, this was uttered. Yeah, he had finally lost it!

Ioli appraised him with an unreadable expression.

''It will be delivered to your friends along with a badge proving you died during the 685th Hunger Games. A few officials will turn up too'' she said, no intonation in her voice.

''Good'' he answered hoarsely. ''Is that all?''

''Actually'' Ioli answered after a moment's pause. ''You have to think about your token. It is an object that will remind you of home during your time in the Arena. You can have it with you there, but be careful when choosing. If the Game Makers think that it will give you an advantage in the Games it will be taken from you and you cannot replace it. Therefore you will enter the arena without one.''

''Advantage? Like what?''

''A hidden weapon, healing-potions and so on. Anything we choose will be tested for curses, charms and enchantments in general to make sure they are simple reminders of safety and symbols of our personal battle.''

''Symbols'' he repeated.

''Yes, symbols. My mother for instance had a competed with a rose pendant that played music -Mozart's Lacrimosa to be precise- and after she won everyone made the connection between the two. During the Victor's Ceremony a special music piece is usually played but that time they chose that specific part of Mozart's Requem. Symbols have a lot of power. Do not underestimate our fantasy world, in the end that is what makes us different from other animals.''

She reached for the neckline of her shirt and when she withdrew her hand, she was holding an oval medaillon.

On the silver plaque, white and midnight-blue lacque created a delicate rose -identical to the one with which Ioli had been toying at the West Wing Ward meeting. She stroked the blue rose and a sad beautiful hymn came out.

Ioli stiffened a snarl.

''As if anyone would have cried for her -or me'' she mused. ''She liked sarcasm, what can I say.''

Harry couldn't follow her track of thoughts but didn't press the issue.

''It's pretty though. And you kept it...''

''She had promised me I could have it when I became eligible for the Games. She kept her promise and so did I.''

At his slightly puzzled look she smiled easily.

''To hold on to it, so that it would remind me how ugly, savage situations can give birth to beautiful things. But she would always change the subject when i asked for clarification.''

Not knowing what to answer to that odd confession, he made another effort of fishing.

"And your father?''

''Rather curious, are you?'' she asked her lips curling upwards for a smirk. ''Officially he didn't have one but once he showed a green and silver ribbon my mother was wearing. He must have stolen it from her things before his Games. If you looked closely at the memories you could have noticed.''

''I-I didn't''

''I know, hero, thus the use of 'if' '' she said now resembling more her usual curt tone.

''So, it must be something that can be worn?'' he began again in an effort to rationalize the conversation.

''Not necessarily, just something small and light enough. A pouch will be used if you cannot wear it.''

''Right, I'll- I'll think about it and I'll tell..?''

''Me, your trainer. It is among my duties to provide you with your token of choice. Do not worry, I will do the rest.''

''Actually, that's what concerns me, he answered feeling suddenly very tired. ''And how about you? Have you decided yet?''

''Hmm, toothpaste?

He actually laughed at that.

''Do not laugh, because I will not share. And then I will be the only one clean enough there. Not to mention I will be able to flash smiles at everyone after I have won, without embarrassing myself. Hmm...that could be a great advertisement for toothpaste...: fabulous smile, sparkle that kills! It would become a hit.''

''And that doesn't qualify as an advantage in the Games?'' he asked, still fighting back a smile, riddled by her rapid mood swings.

''Not really'' she dismissed ''you will not die if you do not brush your teeth for a week.''

She rose to her feet and started walking towards the door.

''That's all?''

''Yes, for tonight.''

Her hand touched the doorknob, but didn't twist it.

''Oh and, Harry?'' she called silkily '' We are not destined to do anything. The past is solid, but we have not written the future yet. Keep that in mind. Good night.''

And she left him there, his mind racing.

_A/N: So, that was Ioli talking ...I'm really dying to hear your opinions on her views so please review :) _

_Any guesses on the tokens?_

_Also the next two chaps will be from her POV and then the Games begin. Since they are a little small, would you like me to post them together or small but focus is better? Your choice ;)_

_Until then bye_


	13. Chapter 13

N/A:_ Hey again, sorry for the wait and thanx for the reviews guys :) So that's a huge chap almost completely from Ioli's POV, hope it goes well and you like it. Please let me know what you think._

___Disclaimer: Obviously I don't own Harry Potter, that belongs to the genius JK Rowling. Also I don't own The Hunger Games, that's Suzanne Collins' idea.___

___As always a thanx to Tarry who corrected all my spelling/gramar/syntax mistakes :)___

**Chapter 13**

Ioli was walking swiftly down the corridor, her overanalyzing, perfection-seeking mind working frantically -as always.

The main thing was that the plan was working fairly well. She had more work to do, she was heading there right now, but that would not be too difficult.

The boy was a little odd, but still he was playing along and for now that was enough. The most disturbing thing, in her not-so-humble-opinion, was his lack of interest in his own life. Of course, of the little she had heard about him at home and from what she had gathered those two days -which was quite a lot- she knew the boy had the most extreme hero-complex, ready to jump to assistance of anyone in need. And there would be a lot of people in need in that Arena.

She couldn't afford hesitation or pathetic guilt trips when the others would be willing to give an arm and their wands to see them both dead and even she couldn't turn him into a ruthless killer in a few days' time.

On the other hand after a six year long game of hide and seek with her father he was still breathing and walking and that could only mean one thing: he had, along with the hero-complex, impressive survival instincts. What a fascinating combination.

This part of him was more promising too. In a difficult situation she could appeal to that, and maybe he wouldn't blow her brilliant plan up. But ''maybe'' was not enough for her, it never had been and it never would be.

She was obsessively organized and controlling even with herself and in the exceptionally rare occasions she slipped from her tracks -the mental state of her closest family was never promising- she knew how to regain her self-control. So once again she had to plan. And the key now was not only that boy, but the other Tributes too. They didn't know it, but the Games had officially began when they had first met her!

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The next two days passed relatively uneventfully and yet even more franticly than the first. In the mornings Harry would train physically in combat -Muggle and Wizarding alike- stamina and weight lifting. After lunch he had the survival skills stations to go through and, as if this was not enough, Ioli would then shove him in a private room to practice Occlumency and duelling, leaving him heavily bruised.

Last but not least, he had to study which plants and fungi were edible and two enormous volumes of Defensive Magic full of notes and advice that Harry was pretty sure were made by Ioli's parents.

There were also the other three shows they performed: a 10Km distance run, a duelling session that left everyone except for Ioli numb since they were all beaten by their trainers and a round at the Gauntlet.

Deep down he was grateful he had so much to do therefore keeping his mind away from sad, full-of-misery-and-despair thoughts. He made effort not to think of his friends, Ginny and everyone/thing he held dear, because he was sure that he could not bear it all. So he stayed up late studying until his eyes were so tired he couldn't blink. Then he welcomed the dreamless, soothing sleep.

Despite all his focus, he couldn't help but notice how little contact he had with everyone except for Ioli. Perhaps it was his fault or simply a game of his confused, overworked mind but he was under the impression the other Tributes were avoiding him. Only the Carriers talked to him a little during meals but they too sounded forced, their conversations short and cold.

Ioli was absent at every meal. When he confronted her about it, she merely told him that being a Trainer was hard work, a lot of paperwork and formalities. Being himself terribly busy, he dropped the issue.

His only pressing problem were the letters to his friends. To his surprise the will was the easy part. He left most of his possessions to the Weaslies and Hermione, but had no clue what to write them. How was he supposed to contain in a letter all his feelings for Ginny, his gratitude to Mr. and Mrs. Weasley and even a few kind words to Neville, Luna or Professor McGonagall?

How could he possibly explain what had and was about to happen, ask for their forgiveness they weren't there and thank them for fighting Voldemort beside him? No matter what he tried, his words looked stupid on parchment.

In the end he wrote them simple thank you and apologies notes feeling like a small stupid boy every time he moved his quill on the parchment.

And now, the last evening before the Games, he had to put his will and letters in a wooden box and wait for Ron and Hermione. His heart almost missed a beat at the thought.

He hopped in the bathtub aiming for a refreshing bath that would prevent him from looking tired -Hermione would lose her mind if he did. It didn't really work. While soaking in the perfumed water, looking absentmindedly at the colour the bubbles were taking, he figured that seeing his best friends would only make things worse. He wouldn't want to let go, he would try to go home with them, to Ginny. He remembered the night of May the second, only two months ago, when he would willingly walk to his death. On his way he had seen Ginny and, in the end, he had concluded it would be easier not to say good-bye.

Now he felt the same hot anger that made him rip into pieces many of his letters rising inside him.

No, he didn't have the time or energy for fits of rage and childish tantrums. He had the opportunity to spend a few hours with them before- before who knew?

Funny though, all these days he was silently praying to see them and now they were here, he was tempted to lock himself in his room. Repressing a bitter snort he stood up with such force half of the water was splattered on the floor. He got quickly dressed and headed to the dining hall.

When he arrived, the room was unusually quiet, everyone focusing on their plates with a grim expression on their faces. Obviously he wasn't the only one who felt like crap with the hour's prospect.

Ioli was shining again by her absence.

When the first name was called, a girl a few seats on his right jumped, terror in her brown eyes. She headed towards the exit, slipped a piece of parchment in the wooden box, and she didn't come back. That pattern was kept from then on. With small or non-existent pauses other Tributes were called and panicked went to say good bye to their families in private.

Only him and Stella were left, when the door opened again. Ioli was standing there.

She gave a curt, cool nod to the girl.

''They want you outside'' was all she told her. ''How are you feeling?''

The girl left without saying anything.

''Fine'' he answered automatically.

''As in miserable? ''she tried, a cruel twist in her lips.

He gave her an angry look.

''It's not like I've got every reason to be cheery'' he blurted out.

''Maybe not, but you could pretend. It would help. For the Arena.''

''Or I could act like a human being preparing to die, which is the truth, by the way'' he managed to sound sarcastic. ''I know it is difficult for you, but you know, you could pretend to understand. It wouldn't hurt.''

''Perhaps, but why take the risk?'' she asked sweetly. ''We will have plenty of time for that in the next weeks.''

She made a small pause, scanning his face.

''Seriously, though, facades are important in here. You have to appear strong otherwise the snakes will eat you alive.''

Before his brain could form an answer to that she continued.

''I am not here to torture you, although it is quite fun'' she said. ''I wanted to inform you that during your meeting with your friends the scores will be announced and I have to be there. Just keep that in mind.''

''NO!'' he exclaimed. He didn't want her there to poison everything. In fact he didn't want anyone there. This was personal.

''Ouch. That really hurt'' she said in mockingly offended, hurt tone. ''Right here'' she put her palm on her heart. ''If you continue sounding so rude, I might think you do not like me.'' Now her eyes were burning with sadism.

Repressing the urge to strangle her with her own hair, he eyed her with a murderous look.

''Sorry to burst your bubble, but I don't like you'' he said as cockily as he could master. ''Thanks for the note, I'll keep it in mind. Now leave'' he deadpanned in the end.

To his surprise she didn't seem offended. On the contrary a triumphant gleam illuminated her clinically structured features.

''You work better when aggravated'' she smirked distinctively. ''We should use that. You are right, I should be going, the fluffiness to come will make me sick.''

She left as quickly as she had come, her long green skirt floating around her.

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Two hours later Ioli was sitting on a bench in her old house's garden. Sneaking in had been ridiculously easy. The spell to keep intruders out had faded away with a few twirls of her experienced wand.

The front door had opened with a squeaky sound and she had slipped upstairs, to the second floor of the part they had lived, where the main library was. With precise steps she approached the east wall covered with books and took from it a small, thick one. Silver letters wrote NightWatch on light brown leather. It looked really old, thin pages stained by potions and humidity. And indeed it was. Still it was Ioli's favourite. She had learnt to read from that book and this was the one she had asked more often her mother to read her when she was little and sick.

Pale, slender fingers stroked the worn leather for a moment and then she hid it in her robes. She had known this would be her token since she had learnt about the Games. Of course now she knew every tiny star and constellation practically by heart, along with the myth behind its name, she didn't need her old book but...

It was her friend and reminder that parts of her life had been happy, normal.

Not that she seeked normal, no. The basic human characteristics in biology were the only extent she was like other people, she was convinced about that. When surrounded by others -except for her now dead family- she usually felt alien. To everything about them: their experiences, their feelings, their actions.

Maybe this was the reason she read humans so well. She had been studying them since she was a toddler because they were different and, despite hers and her family's repulsion, she had to associate with them. And because she didn't like them, they didn't remind her of herself and so her analytical mind was free to tear their motives, actions, their whole world apart.

Since last year she would play a game with rather success. Before some event was about to happen, she would write down the outcome (human reactions, etc.) and then check if she was correct. Although a wise man had once said wise men do not make predictions, she found that terribly amusing and had done the same with the Games. She wasn't sure though if it was fair this time, given her ability to change things in the Arena. Besides, the proverb was by itself a prediction.

The only peculiar note in that whole situation was that although she was quite accurate at it, she could never understand their motives apart from the surface. She knew the theory -she had read Freud and her father had been a great help there- but she was never certain about the why. Mainly because when she imagined herself in the given situation she reacted in a completely different -and bizarre according to others- way.

Her mother had been understanding, she had confessed that the same happened to her but it wasn't worrisome. Ioli would always be different -special- because of her ancestry and her own abilities. It was ''normal''. Her father's opinion was similar. Laughing he had explained that Bella was terribly snobbish with other people she didn't believe they were worthy of her interest and this was a reason he had chosen her. But according to him it was fun to observe and sometimes toy with others. Perhaps she would have found it amusing once too, but now she could afford to be neither haughty nor playful.

This was the time she had to play master-marionettier, manipulate everyone and come on top without being herself tangled by the strings. The contempt would always be there but she had to survive. More than survive. And all that meant one thing: Hunger Games.

Sitting on the bench, for a moment Ioli had the urge to visit her old room and maybe her parents' too. No, she was being silly. Being emotional never paid off and she had been there only two days ago to take a few clothes.

This was not goodbye after all. There was not a chance she would perish in the Games and one day she would own the mansion again. She would not access anything less. She had been raised to believe she was the princess and future queen of the world. Perhaps the...unfortunate turn of events was not unfortunate after all. Worthy-rights were better than birth-rights, right? Even Mr. Savior of the Light would agree to that.

An evil grin was drawn on her usually calm, composed face. She had to go back now, the fluffiest part would be over and the scores were waiting. The next phase of the plan was about to begin. Game on.

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Ioli hurried through the corridors in search of Harry Potter's room. She wasn't overly thrilled with it, but it was an obligation to be present at the scoring. Milking every moment she had, she decided to seize the opportunity to serve her own agenda. Only they had to be tear-free, because otherwise she couldn't guarantee she wouldn't be overly terrifying and sarcastic. And that wouldn't help.

Probably they were past that by now. They would be sitting together, holding hands, in silence reassuring each other everything would be fine.

Idiots. Sentimental, weak fools. What is even fine supposed to mean? If things were so easily divided into fine and not-fine no philosophy would exist. An event is never just ''fine''. Plus every decision and action have consequence many of which are almost impossible to predict and there are ways to process data, that-

Stop, she ordered herself mentally. Aggravating herself was inefficient. She had to keep a cool head and leave brainless people out of philosophical conversations.

Standing outside the door she took a deep breath. No noise was coming from the room. She knocked. After a moment's pause the girl opened.

Judging by the puffy eye, the wetness on the shirts and the sweaty palms, oh yes, she had been correct. Mentally celebrating, she took a sympathetic expression.

''Miss Granger, Mr. Weasley it is good to see you again even under the circumstances'' she said politely.

The Mudblood opened her mouth to speak but Ginger was quicker.

''Sure you are'' he blurred out. ''Bet you're thrilled Harry's entering the Games. Bet you made it happen so you can kill Harry without being charged.''

''Ron'' the Mudblood whispered shocked, a hand reaching out to hold his shoulder. ''You shouldn't-''

But Ioli raised her hand to silence her.

''I do not appreciate your accusations Mr. Weasley. I am afraid your manners are worse than Mr. Potter's here. Please next time keep your conspiracy theories to yourself since they are neither accurate nor welcome'' she answered him coolly, her body completely still.

Ginger seemed to be itching to tell her more, but Harry's gentle grip made him change his mind. He made an unintelligible nod and collapsed on a chair.

The boy, giving him a worried look turned to her.

''It's time for our scores now, isn't it?'' he asked, the hoarseness of his voice betraying the drama of the previous hours.

''Yes'' she agreed. She took a piece of pink (!) parchment out of her robes. The names of the thirty Tributes were written on it.

''In two minutes the score will appear beside the respective name. The bottom mark is 0 and the highest 12. None of them have ever been given, by the way. Now, while we wait, have you decided on your token?'' she asked softly.

''Umm, yeah. Do-do I have to give it to you for the test?''

''Yes, they will be performed tonight while you sleep. We will have them back just before we enter the Arena tomorrow.''

A gasp escaped from the Mudblood's lips. Embarrassed she pressed her hand on her mouth muttering a ''sorry''.

And Gryffindors were supposed to be brave? Ioli mentally sighed. Sentimental, weak fools. It was a nice - though. She jumped at the opportunity.

''I know this is hard'' she said in a soft, gentle voice. ''Listen, if you want to-stay a little longer to, you know, look after him during the Games, so he has -family- watching over him, I could-'' hmm for someone who never hesitated when talking it sounded pretty persuasive.

''You could what?'' the Mudblood asked, her eyes wide.

''Well, every Tribute has a family member in the control room watching the Games. I suppose one of you qualifies as such. And for the other...Err since I do not have anyone you could, you know -use it...'' she continued uncomfortably.

Eugh, how could anyone fall for that.

The next second something-someone- fell on her with force. The Mudblood was hugging her tightly.

''Thank you'' she whispered shakily.

Originally alarmed this time, Ioli made an awkward move with her whole body. No one had ever done this before to her and she whole-heartedly hoped it wouldn't happen again. Her mind was racing debating on returning the ''favour'' or shoving this ignorant creature away with repulse.

''Get off of me'' she said finally, flatly, not bothering to sound anything now.

Harry had already caught the dangerous gleam in her eyes and his hand shot out for the Mudblood. She let her go looking horrified and surprised by her own actions. Ginger moved forward almost shielding her with his body, as if it would help if she had something more... fun in mind. They were definitely dating, she decided.

''Thanks'' he muttered.

''No, wait'' the boy intervened ''you can't stay here, they will be worried about you. Mrs. Weasley-''

''I have already written a letter to Mrs. Molly Weasley explaining the situation'' Ioli cut him off. ''I will write to her again tonight. I am sure she would want you to stay here for him'' she addressed the others kindly. ''Not to worry. you will be given rooms here and before we leave for the Arena I will instruct someone to take you to the control room. But you will not see your friends again, I am afraid.''

The boy nodded slightly.

''Alright, if you don't mind. But really I'm fine, you don't have to-''

''We're here for you, mate'' Ginger said sympathetically.

''Oh, Harry'' the Mudblood locked him in the same embrace with which she had assaulted Ioli. She watched mildly amused and clinically interested when he patted her back instead of pushing her away, which according to her mind was the rational thing to do. But expected... How stupid people could be, thinking that having their families looking at them would help them for real to survive an impossible situation. She would be sick.

''The scores are out'' she said flatly, pointing at the pink parchment.

All three raced for it. The girl was the quickest.

''Eight, Harry, eight! Oh how nice, you did very well!'' she started bubbling in delight while Ginger gave him a friendly punch.

''Good job, mate.''

''Thanks, guys'' the boy semi-smiled. He turned to her. ''That's good, right?'' he asked, a small but profound hint of sarcasm in his tone.

''Generally, yes, it is. I presume Sevanous and Marta got ten, a few more eights and nines for the pack and three to six for the rest?''

He nodded and after a pause:

''You got an eleven.''

''I know'' she said simply.

''Congratulations'' he returned uncomfortably.

''Back to you'' she answered, her features unreadable again. ''Now that this is over, sadly you have only a few minutes left with your friends. You also have to give me your token.''

He nodded for the fourth time in the night and handed her a... Golden Snitch.

''Is this your first snitch?'' the Mudblood for some reason intrigued.

''The one Dum-''

''Shush!''

''Err, yeah that one'' the boy hurried on. ''Good times, you know, Quidditch, Hogwarts, first year...''

Oh, what a pathetic liar you are, Chosen-One, she laughed in her head. No way this was the whole story. All three knew about it, Dumbledore was involved and she had to be kept away. That was interesting indeed. her agenda was getting rather crowded even for her multi-tasking standards. But that was another challenge.

She pocketed the small ball without a word.

''I have to go. Inform the guards of the sleeping arrangements and I will confirm it later. Good night, big day tomorrow. Miss Granger, Mr. Weasley, see you in two weeks.'' She made an elegant bow and left the room.

_A/N: Please review, wonder what you think on the Snitch ;)_

_Of course Sigmund Freud is the father is psychology, all praise him :) _


	14. Chapter 14

_A/N: Hello and thank you for the reviews :) Apologies for the long wait, the chapter was much longer than I though so i devided it into two chaps. Here is the Bloodbath. Is it appropriate to say ''Enjoy''?_

__Disclaimer: Obviously I don't own Harry Potter, that belongs to the genius JK Rowling. Also I don't own The Hunger Games, that's Suzanne Collins' idea.__

_This chapter is dedicated to Nancy, even though she'll never see it, because she has been helping me with my own Games for years now. Without her, Ioli would still be hiding in her box, if she actually existed. This is a way to say thank you, since I am incapable of saying it to her in person. _

**Chapter 14**

The next morning came quicker than they were all hoping. It was a beautiful summer day, the birds' song mocking them for their misfortune. Harry had slept surprisingly well.

He woke up at seven thirty by an alarm clock he couldn't remember setting. It was probably Ioli's doing.

He got dressed in a simple t-shirt, jacket and odd tight pants, wondering what that meant about the Arena. Quietly he ate a full breakfast in his room. He wasn't sure what else he was supposed to do so he just sat down.

Big mistake. With all the training, he had forgotten the blind panic. Now it was coming back more intense than ever, claiming every inch of his body and mind. Yeah, it was déjà vu. Of the Triwizard Tournament. Only then, he had had to battle a dragon, not thirty blood-thirsty teenagers and a large number of unidentified creatures and- and who knew what else.

He tried to convince himself that he had every reason to be optimistic, he had trained hard and with a quick test Harry concluded he could still remember which plants were edible and what anti-curses could block a freezing jinx.

Brilliant... What was more urgent? Right, hand-to-hand combat. He had done sessions with swords and Ioli had promised to take care of the attacks...

Ioli- No. No you can't go there, he urged himself. He forbade himself of thinking about her. She had that amazing talent of complicating everything. He had to think if something else. Something comforting.

He remembered the memories of previous Games and realized that in two hour he would be standing on a podium ready to participate in the mayhem.

Bellatrix' determined, young face flashed before his eyes and he got scared when he recalled she hadn't been more than twelve. But not a child, not a child at all. The Hunger Games had taken her innocence away, forcing her to jump in a pool and-

''F***'' the swear escaped his lips before he knew it. He hadn't had a single round at the pool and he couldn't swim. Ioli had forbidden him to go there and the idiot had believed her. Instantly he was convinced that this was her plan all along, to drown him in a pound of water, to ridicule him in front of the whole world while he suffered a slow, painful death...

Irrational fear, the one that takes over when under extreme anxiety, paralyzed him. Why didn't he jump into the pool just once? Why?

His windpipe started contracting and then closed shut, suffocating him. He wasn't taking enough oxygen, dark spots appeared in front of his eyes-

And then fresh, rich air filled his lungs and he was gasping and coughing, breathing hungrily. Ioli was standing a feet away, wand in her hand and a smug look on her face.

''Impeccable timing'' he muttered embarrassed.

''Indeed'' she agreed.

Without saying anything else, she handed him the Snitch along with a leather pouch exactly fitting the small golden orb. He fastened it to his belt using a knot he had learnt the day before.

Ioli was wearing clothes similar to his own, only hers were completely black and her leather jacket hang in a peculiar way, as if it was a bit too big for her.

''Are you done with your panic attack? Because we are on a bit of a tight schedule'' she continued sarcastically.

''I'm fine'' he said with all the dignity he could master.

''Of course, of course, it is not like you could be dead in two hours.''

''Thanks, that makes me feel so much better, Ioli. Really.''

''Anytime'' she flashed him a dazzling smile and continued. ''So here is the deal. We go downstairs to the dining hall. There we give up our wands and wait for the officials to take away the magic. Rumor has it is painless but unpleasant. After that, we are taken to a chamber that will Apparate us to the Arena. And the Hunger Games will begin in exactly a minute.''

He nodded automatically-which he was doing a lot lately.

''As for our plan, it is simple. Since I believe you are still bound not to kill anyone, during the Bloodbath you will take a weapon and use it to threaten Tributes. I want you to look carefully at every supply available and who takes them. Take mental notes. So after the fight is over, we will know who has what. It will be easier to trap them later. If anyone attacks you, you ask for my help, no chivalry, no martyrdom. Understood? Then I take charge and you come with me. Right?''

''Right.''

''Off we go then.''

Down in the hall everyone gave up their wands in complete silence. Ioli only had an expression as if she was finding it too hard and painful to do so without torturing them afterwards, but the rest looked simply languid. When the officials arrived, some of the Tributes looked unable to walk, but a few stern looks from them was enough to change their minds. It would be a great disadvantage to enter the Arena crippled.

While walking through rooms and corridors, he approached Ioli, the only one who looked as if she was going out shopping for her Christmas party.

''Any last minute advice?'' he asked with the end of his lips.

''Stay alive'' she answered in her normal voice.

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His body was strangely light, his intestines non-existent. So this was like being a Muggle, not having magic inside you. Still not truly used to the bizarre sensation, he felt a jolt at his belly-button and was sucked into space.

When the spinning stopped and he dared open his eyes, he found himself in a dystopia. He was standing on a metal plate like he had seen in the memories, but the similarities ended there. Instead of woods or landscape of some sort, they were in the middle of a wrecked, miserable-looking Quidditch pitch. The tall hoops were rusty, barely standing, while many seat were destroyed or simply missing. The once smooth grass was patched with dark, muddy pools of water and the rest was overgrown. And the weather here was definitely not suitable for a midsummer day. Heavy lilac, almost black clouds hang above them, chasing and clashing with each other. Somewhere in the distance he saw doors. They were open. So that was only part of the Arena. He kept its position in mind thinking that those who would flee, would pass that spot inevitably.

A quarter of a mile away from him was the big, golden horn standing, the Cornucopia, filled with supplies.

He glanced around quickly. He was somewhere in the right end of the crescent, Ioli only two plates away. Her eyes were moving fast over everything and, for a second, their gazes met. She smiled slightly, smugly.

What could possibly make her happy? The slaughter to come? Then he remembered his job. Supplies.

Ok. Big boxes with weapons resting on them were scattered inside out of the Cornucopia. Was it just his impression, or where they much less than he recalled? Swiftly he identified the Tributes closest to him, thinking it would be easier to keep track of them and the supplies they would get. He checked the clock.

Fourteen seconds left. Now he had to think his moves. He spotted a sheath of spears lying on a huge black box maybe ten feet away from him. This was his best change of protection. He had to head there.

And then? He had one last opportunity to run away from Ioli and the Carriers. Did he believe her? Was she actually planning to help him or was it just a big scam to get him killed?

She was looking at him again intensely, not smiling anymore. He look was now more...daring. Did she know what he was thinking? Very well, he decided. He had given his word and he would stand by it.

Checking the clock again, he positioned his legs to run instinctively.

Five, four, three, he took a deep breath, one, the gong sounded and it was mayhem.

Everyone started running. Harry sprinted towards the spears keeping an eye on the Tributes near him. To his surprise he reached the weapons easily. He picked one blindly, not even noticing the perfect balance between the weight of the handle and the blade, and turned around to the others, his heart pounding. One or two had already escaped from the stadium, running straight to the unknown.

The Carriers too were choosing weapons, Ioli knelt down extracting a collection of knives from a backpack. The girl was still searching for something and when she noticed the beautiful killer beside her it was too late to run. The blade buried itself deeply into her chest and she fell down from the force of the hit. Everyone turned to look as she coughed a jet of blood high into the air.

This was the signal for the other Carriers. They too released their attacks, gifting death to anyone near enough.

Harry was frozen, watching the extravagant scene with repulse and fascination at the same time, forgetting he too was in great danger. But reality woke him up harshly with a punch on his lower back. The pain was blinding and he fell on his knees, hands losing contact with the spear. He managed to turn to the side.

Above him, a boy was raising an odd looking axe ready to decapitate him. He screamed in panic and the boy's body made a funny spasm spraying blood on Harry's face. The handle of one of Ioli's knives was visible in his chest now.

He turned his bloody face to her just in time. She was coming closer to him, fighting her way through swordfights. She threw him a sword like a baton in a circus show.

''Check the Cornucopia deeper for food and medicine'' she called. ''I have your back.''

Not bothering to answer as Ioli was already unhooking another knife, he began moving.

He spotted a big yellow backpack. That would definitely contain food, he thought. But when he unzipped it, he found nothing but wire. Ignoring the fight around him, he ran deeper into the horn, hearing Ioli sending away or simply killing his pursuers. Opening every box he saw, emptying every rucksack, all he found was weapons.

''Ioli! Ioli! Here are only weapons!''

''Search deeper'' she instructed.

'' I did! There's nothing here, maybe the others have something'' he tried desperately. Giving a look at the others for the first time in minutes, he observed the ongoing battle. Many Tributes were already dead, their bodies lying on the grass, eyes empty. Others were fighting over supplies without weapons, just fists, and the Carriers were cutting every inch of flesh they saw. A brawny boy was running in the distance, carrying a backpack too heavy even for him. Ioli had seen him too.

''Keep them off for a second'' she ordered, her gaze still fixed on the boy. He sprinted in front of her two attackers crossing swords with the girl and keeping the boy in a safe distance with the spear.

Ioli took a big, nasty looking knife from inside her jacket and aimed. It cut through the air with an ominous zap and hit the running boy in the back with a clashing, metallic noise.

''Weapons. There are only weapons'' she declared, coming to him. ''That is why they were so few.''

Taking the sword from his hand, she slashed the boy's chest and with an impressive side oversplit broke the girl's neck. As they dropped in front of Harry, the news seemed to spread, along with the panic. At the same time the sky started crying, huge drops of water falling down, angry lightning elluminating the battle.

Almost all of the Tributes, terrified by the discovery, abandoned their fighting partner and fled picking just a knife or a sword in their panic. And they did so wisely, because the two who chose to stay behind feel from the arrow and spear of Marta and Sevanous respectively. They ran franticly towards the doors, followed by the Carriers who were hunting them down. Except for Ioli who was running, only without raising her weapon.

''Do not follow them'' she ordered. ''Let them go.''

They ignored her, running faster, but the last non-Carrier had already left the stadium, wisely kicking the door shut.

''Let them go'' she repeated, her words underlined by a thunder. But when Sevanous urged them to move faster in order to catch up, a sword flew though the air and pegged itself on the door, blocking the exit. Everyone stopped dead and turned to her.

''Got a problem?'' Sevanous asked, jaw clenched.

''We will all have a problem in a few hours of wandering in an unknown area without food, water and heat'' she responded coolly.

'They are getting away!'' he urged, ''We'll have time for that later, now we've got them close and freaked out!''

''Or we could ensure our survival first, which, by the way, is sort of vital in order to deal with the others.''

Sevanous raised his spear threateningly and instantly Ioli's sword was in an offensive position. They stared at each other for almost a minute daringly.

Then Marta spoke.

''Then we should split'' she suggested. ''Half of us go look for food and shelter and the rest take care of them.''

No one bothered to pay attention, they were eyeing busy worriedly the pair power playing. Harry remembering his promise , was about to interfere, when Litus' voice came calm and quiet.

''I think Salzara's right. We should find food and shelter first. It's safer.''

''Yes'' Harry hurried, ''We'll have plenty of time to look for them, but without food we won't last long.''

A shark-smile spread Ioli's lips, but she didn't break eye contact.

''I see you've charmed the boys'' Sevanous said sarcastically.

''You consider yourself a girl then?'' she asked, still smiling maliciously.

The comment made him snap and he almost took a shot with the spear. Ioli sneered.

''Either stay and obey, or leave and be the first to die'' she offered silkily now.

Sevanous seemed to be actually considering it, but the deep green in Ioli's wet face made him reconsider, swallow his pride. He lowered the weaon.

''Good boy. Any other objections?'' she asked too politely. ''Fabulous'' she smiled triumphantly.

''Then back to the Cornucopia. Check if anyone is still alive. Kill them if that is the case and take a look at the remaining weapons.''

All seven of them walked back to the horn, kneeling down to detect a pulse and signs of breathing. In the end, only one out of twelve was alive. The boy with the backpack Ioli had hit had a spike half buried in his back. Ioli sat beside him on the filthy ground where he was gasping, coughing and drowning from the blood that was filling his lungs.

''Sorry for the trouble'' she told him softly. ''I had to check'' Then with a precise cut she put an end to his suffering.

They collected every weapon they found and gave a fair share to everyone, according to their weapon of choice. But there were so many, that after they were done, some had no match.

''We should hide them here'' said Stella talking fast ''and in an emergency we retrieve them and fight.''

Ioli agreed.

''Pick some, hide them well between seats or in the ground. Remembering the location is your responsibility. Then gather at the entrance. Finding shelter and food is our number one priority now. We will become accustomed to the surrounding area. This will be useful when hunting down the others'' she said with a pointed look at Sevanous.

Fifteen minutes later they were all assembled in front of the doors of the stadium. Harry raised both hands to remove Ioli's sword and reveal the whole Arena, but he couldn't prevent himself from thinking. If this was the beginning of the bloody Games, what other horrors were about to come?

_A/N: Thanx for reading, please let me know what you think._

_Since I've never been in an actual battle, the research was extensive and took some time. Hope it turned out well and it was fun(!) to write anyway._


	15. Chapter 15

_A/N: Thanx for the reviews :) Apologies for the long wait, the chap is longer to make up for that. Enjoy._

__Disclaimer: Obviously I don't own Harry Potter, that belongs to the genius JK Rowling. Also I don't own The Hunger Games, that's Suzanne Collins' idea. And Im bored putting that everywhere...__

**Chapter 15**

As Harry had theorized, the pitch was just a tiny part of the Arena. They were, as it seemed, in the outskirts of a ruined city. Tall, ghost-like buildings were surrounding them, their empty windows staring hopelessly at the distance. For some reason he thought of the Riddle House, only a week ago being in the same condition. Here the air had something sinister too, unwelcoming.

They picked the widest street and started walking, tight grips on their weapons. Somewhere from behind twelve canons, one for every fallen, were fired. The Bloodbath was officially over.

''Spread more'' Ioli instructed, apparently unaffected by the canons. ''We pose nice pray for a mouse trap from those buildings.''

Harry approached the closest shop. Clothes were still dressing the old mannequins, although fashion had changed the last 180 years.

''Well, we can't change our clothes with those things'' Marta said in a falsely cheerful tone, pointing at a dress with a huge crinoline. ''That'd be difficult to pass through the door...''

''Maybe not'' Ioli said softly ''but they seem to have been abandoned in a hurry.'' She pointed at a shoe store with shoeboxes left on the couches. Perhaps one of the apartments upstairs has something edible. Or some bandages.''

''This door is open'' Amy offered speaking for the first time.

But none of these houses were even furnitured. They continued walking, looking for inhabitable buildings. Thirty minutes later the buildings had become a bit bigger and more elaborate in their architecture.

''In there!'' Stella called triumphantly, forgetting about the heavy rain, the injuries and any precautions. And indeed this apartment was fully equipped.

With delighted cries they hurried inside, collapsing on dilapidated chairs and filthy couches. The flat was quite big with two bathrooms and a comfortable living room. Only problem: the kitchen had no food. Despite the fact that everyone else was sitting down, examining minor injuries and taking off their wet clothes, Ioli was on her feet examining every inch of the house. Ten minutes later she came back.

''So the bathrooms have plenty of bandages and painkillers for those who need them. There is no antiseptic, we will have to work with alcohol'' she pointed at a wall covered with bottles. ''Oh and if anyone even tries to drink it, I will personally introduce them to my knives'' she added pleasantly.

She sat on the armchair Marta evacuated for her and took a chocolate bar from her inside-jacket pocket.

''Where did you get that?'' Amy asked with perfectly round eyes.

''That?'' Ioli asked softly, innocently. ''From the nursery. They were hidden, but I found them easily. You did not seem interested in eating, so why mention it?''

She popped a piece of chocolate in her mouth.

''Mmm, really good after all that action. Hey, careful at the stairs, it will be a shameful death, being run ove.'' she added nonchalantly.

They all left, except for Harry who was staring at her.

''Not hungry, are you, hero?'' she asked silkily.

''No'' he answered curtly. ''Funny enough I get nauseous every time I see children being slaughtered. Shocking I know, but...''

''Every time?'' she drawled.

''Yeah. Every time.'' Harry deadpanned.

''Hmm, interesting. If you prefer, we could tend your wounds. The others will be trying to find the food stash for hours, so we can have some privacy.''

It's not privacy when it's two in the room. And I'm fine, I don't need anything.''

''I meant privacy for us. Together. I will go get some bandages. You strip, I have to examine you. ''

She walked out of the room graciously, leaving Harry bewildered. He would most definitely not strip in front of her. The nerve of her, asking someone she knew for five days to do something like that. What did they do in her house, anyway? Walk around naked? He repressed a manic laugh when he thought of Voldemort hosting a Death Eater meeting frolic nude. Eugh, how twisted! What was wrong with him?

''Something funny?'' a voice came from the stairs. I thought our current situation was something between an outrage and a tragedy in your opinion, not a comedy'' Ioli smirked.

You don't think it's an outrage?''

''For me, it is the only way out'' she said carefully. ''Though I suppose it has some... outrageous, tragic elements, yes.''

''Elements?'' Harry snarled, ''you singlehandedly murdered five people today. Doesn't that bother you? You want to become great with blood of children in your hands? Oh, of course you do, you're Voldemort's daughter! Why am I surprised?''

He stood up.

''He stood up. I've had enough, I'm out of here. Good luck with your plans, as long as they don't include me.''

He went for the door, but Ioli's hand landed a little above his kidney, sending signals of exquisite pain all over his body. He frowned.

''You are not going anywhere. You gave me your word. Besides, my plans involve anyone in this Arena regardless of their approval. But if you play along, you just might get something in return, except for pure manipulation and defeat. Your life, for instance. Now sit down and take your shirt off. I have to check if you are bleeding internally. ''

''No'' he raised a hand. ''You can't make me take part in this!''

''Sure I can, but it will be painful for your part, and time-consuming though fun for mine.'' She took a nasty looking knife from her jacket and stood in front of him. You gave e your word. I will make you stand by it, no matter what'' she concluded.

He sat down furiously.

''Fine, but only because of that. Not because of your-'' he pointed at her knife.

''Toys?'' Ioli offered playfully. "I could care less about your motives, Golden Boy. Now let us have a look at the damage. Seriously, Potter, being shy is not helpful if you have organ failure.''

Reluctantly, he took his t-shirt off awkwardly, since the bloody thing hurt like hell. He hadn't had time to check the wound during battle of course and he hadn't been that eager to do it in front of the others, so it was the first time he ever saw the extent of the injury. His whole right lower back had a violent, purple colour and the place was double the normal size. He was pretty sure, actually, he could see his pulse throbbing somewhere in the middle.

Ioli was staring too, her eyes scanning every inch of flesh like a medical device. After a while, without speaking she extended two fingers. Instinctively he flinched away sure that the pain would be unbearable. And indeed when she touched him, even that lightly, every cell exploded in agony. But she ignored his muffled moan, continuing to feel or even tap every other centimeter or so.

A small voice in his head, the nasty one, was telling him that perhaps she was enjoying that more than she should be, only then she spoke:

''The boy had done his homework. He hit you at the kidney and thus the pain is severe. But as far as I can tell, the punch missed the ribs and the kidney is relatively ok. We can do nothing about that, only manage the pain. Take all three pills'' she pointed at the small hill of white tablets on the table ''and if your urine has blood tell me immediately.''

Hesitantly he swallowed the pills.

''What would the blood mean?''

''That there is nothing anyone can do to help you'' Ioli answered matter-of-factly.

After that traumatizing experience, she also bathed his arm wound with Scotch and covered it with a bandage.

''Fascinating'' she mused. ''You are rather good with pain, you know. Covering it up'' she explained ''despite your obvious difficulties in hiding your true emotions. Most people would have screamed their lungs out by now.''

She made an airy gesture implying he could dress again. A warmth filled his body. The shirt was not completely dry, but the fire Amy had lit helped.

''Well, what can I say, I'm talented. And I had good training and your dad. Thanks a lot.''

''You are welcome'' she answered in an equally sarcastic tone and took her own clothes off.

''Do I have a cut on my left shoulder blade?''

''Yes'' was all he said. ''He was sure she could bloody well see the wound, but did it on purpose, to shock him. Sadistic little-''

''Could you please put some Scotch on it? I have no eyes on my back, you see.''

With an unintelligible sound he took the bottle and emptied it on the wound. A little sadism on her wouldn't hurt. Plus he had to keep his eyes away from her body. Somehow, it seemed very wrong.

To his surprise ioli didn't even flinch at the cascade of alcohol on the open flesh.

''You're good with pain, too'' he observed.

''I am good with masks'' she corrected. ''Just put the cloth on. You on the other hand, not so much. There is a basic difference. It is the hero complex, I guess.''

''I don't have a-''

''Save it from your friends. They probably find it attractive, but for me you are getting repetitive. Eat.''

She offered him another chocolate bar.

''I told you, I don't want it.''

''Oh, but you must have mistaken that as a request'' she said sweetly. ''It is an order. Eat it or I will force it down your throat. It will be very unpleasant for you. There you go.''

Harry started eating the bar, while Ioli did the same with a pack of biscuits. They fell in a silence for a while.

''They chose it, you know'' she said calmly after a while. ''The Tributes we killed today. They participated in the Games willingly, fully aware of the consequences. But, you see, humans tend to plan based only on the good scenarios. So they did not believe they would actually be chosen and even if they did, they picture themselves as victors. And then reality knocked their door in the form of tributes like Sevanous, Marta and me. Unpleasant surprise for the faint hearted. They practically committed suicide today. Every time they do.''

''I don't understand'' harry said slowly.

''During the raining they concluded they had no chance of winning and chose a quick, relatively painless way to die.''

''Painless?'' he repeated astonished.

''Yes, relatively'' Ioli agreed in the same soft, calm voice. ''You saw the conditions of the battle: swift moves,. we were all concerned about the supplies, not the killing. But later, when we go hunting, someone might... take their time with their victim. And keep in mind that parents are watching. Their children wish their ends to be quick for their family's sake. For twelve families the agony ended today. Now they have to grieve. This is the tragic part of the Games. The families of the Tributes who by the way usually are the those who convinced their children to participate.

''Why would they do that? It's insane.''

''oh, you say that, but many parents live their lives through their children's accomplishments. a job at the Academy is the highest honour. Ergo..."

Harry nodded.

''And the outrageous part?''

''That. That is for the Academy students. if we do not participate, we have no carrier here, hence the name Carriers. We build them in the Arena, right this moment. But we may die trying. It is a tough choice.''

''Didn't-didn't anyone think of aborting the custom? I mean, no one really seems to like it. and withh good reason.''

''It has been suggested, for now the event is just not annual anymore. But we are still here.''

''Yeah? How about something more drastic?''

Ioli laughed softly.

''Tradition is very powerful, Chosen-One'' she mused. It is difficult to rip it out of people, because it has been connected with our history. And humans would be lost without history. It would be excruciating thinking that we are alone in this cruel world. This is a basic function of cemeteries and family shrines, you know. Continuity'' she concluded.

He stared at her for a while.

''I never thought of it like that'' he said thoughtfully ''but yeah, I s'pose... it makes sense. For the cemeteries, I mean, the other is still hideous.''

''At some point, in happier times, it might be abandoned.'' A half-smile crossed Ioli's lips.

Absent-mindedly she started toying with the bottle of whiskey. She unstoppered it, smelled the liquid and wrinkled her nose delicately.

''I find it impossible to believe that people drink that thing in order to feel better'' she muttered. ''Have you ever tried it?''

''Hmm? yeah, well, it's not that bad... It doesn't taste very nice, but it'll make you feel better in certain occasions. Haven't you ever tried it?''

''No, never. Mother and Uncle Dolph believed it was from useless to dangerous and Father despised it. He said that when he was a toddler they used to force children to drink gin to keep them quiet when crying or sick. Only the smell made him nauseous. As for me, I find the idea of addiction appalling. Imagine not being able to concentrate properly or simply be your normal self because you haven't had a drink. That is tragic.''

Harry gave her an odd look. That last statement reminded him of Voldemort. A lot. hadn't Dumbledore said that Tom Riddle chose Horcruxes instead of the Philosopher's Stone because of his extreme desire to be self-sufficient? The connection in his mind was scary, but in the end he decided to fish for more.

''So that's your goal? To do everything on your own without help from other people or substances?''

''that is impossible to achieve'' she said disdainfully. ''No one can survive doing everything by themselves. The evolution of civilization is based on hand-me-down knowledge. Sadly our lives are too short to investigate and check everything by ourselves. But yes, most of the times it is the prudent to do. Other people are unreliable, stupid and backstabbing. Even in the case of the failure, it is best to point the finger of guilt at ourselves and think about what went wrong instead of wasting time accusing others.

On the other hand, help is often needed and could even give better results. Our situation is a good example for that.''

She sighed softly and rested her head on the armchair, eyes closed. When she didn't continue talking, Harry began.

''Help is more than ''often'' needed'' he said in a censorious voice. ''Help has helped me plenty of times. When many put ideas on the table and other people have your back, your problems are solved better and quicker. Only if your aim is to increase your own status by getting the credit all by yourself you don't accept help. Then yeah, you're right. '' he shot her a pointed look she didn't see because her eyes were still closed.

But her laugh was girly, almost silent.

''What makes you think I want to improve my status? What does that even mean? No, my point was about decisions. How is the final solution from all those presented picked finally? Because, inevitably, people together argue about who will shine more. And also how can you be sure your friends will have your back when most needed? That is a great weight to carry under pressure.''

''Are you trying to tell me you have a secret agenda and in the end you'll betray me?'' he hissed furiously.

''Betray you? No, no, hero, but I do have a secret agenda. Merlin, you are paranoid. I was referring to yoy, by the way, not me. Do nit forget, 30 minutes ago you were determined to leave me. Good for both of us I know how to push those lion-pride buttons of yours.''

He didn't say anything. Deep down, he was really ashamed of his previous behaviour, because although it was fully understandable given the scene he had just witnessed, Ioli was right. He had given his word and was obligated to keep it.

''Anyway, my point is that without help you have more control over your task. Just that. And do not forget, I was the one with the idea to join forces.''

''How could I forget that?'' Harry muttered. He put his feet on the table and slipped into a more comfortable position on the couch, intending to rest for a while. His back still felt all funny.

''No resting for you, mister, until you finish the chocolate bar. And feet off the table. There is no reason to make this place even messier that is already is.''

Harry gapped.

''How can you possibly know that I haven't finished it all? Your eyes are closed! Aren't they?'' he asked slightly scared of the answer.

Ioli's lips twitched smugly.

''Of course they are, genius. You forgot we have no magic already?'' she sneered. ''I just figured you had too few bites. Plus, you have been objecting on eating it for the last 38 seconds.''

''You are literally counting my bites?'' he asked freaked out.

''Why, yes, you should be flattered took the time. Counting is a favourite hobby of mine. Rather useful too. For instance, if i had not counted all the food upstairs, I would have no way of knowing what the others will take. Once they... open the box of course.''

''You have to know everything, right? Control everyone?'' he asked aggravated. "And laugh at us.''

''No, not at all'' she answered nonchalantly. ''This is my desire only for those who could affect me in some way. The rest are way beyond of my attention.''

''Yeah, right, my bad, how could I make that mistake? Silly of me really, thinking you might be planning world domination''

Her laugh was soft, but she didn't comment. That was alarming by itself, he thought.

Noise came from the nursery. The others had just found the food and were yelling in excitemnt.

''Just on time'' Ioli sneered. She opened her eyes and rose to her feet.

''Where are you going?''

''To kill someone, mother.''

_A/N: Thanx for reading, please review, id love to hear your opinion on what Ioli said._

_Indeed being hit in the kidneys hurts lik hell and there is nothing you can do, unless you pie blood. Then you should go to a doctor..._

_Also, about the talk about the dead tributes: Reading crossovers like this, I found out that many chose to have the weak participate in the bloodbath. It looked perfectly normal to me too, so I was wondering why. What Ioli says is the explanation I came up with._

_Bye for now :)_


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